Jealousy and Matchmaking
by barneyrockz
Summary: Elizabeth goes to stay in Highbury with her good friend Emma, while Darcy is also in Highbury. Emma and Darcy work together to change Elizabeth's opinion of him, but Knightley sees their closeness as affection. Can they all somehow find their way to love?
1. Prologue

Just a quick note before you read:

I just want to point out things I've changed. To start with, Mr. Collins is not a clergyman, as Mr. Elton already has the job. Mr. Collins is Lady Catherine's steward which I've read is the highest servant position (after valet, but why would Lady Catherine have a valet?). The P&P characters are at the point of the book where Kent would be, while Emma characters have only just started their story. Emma is not friends with Harriet (yet, though it may happen) and Mr. Elton has not proposed.

The story of P&P before this is almost exactly the same and it will be referenced from time to time. Anything else I think of will be posted at the beginning of the chapter it applies to.

* * *

"Must you really go?" Jane whined to her sister for the twelfth time that evening. Elizabeth merely rolled her eyes at her sister.

"Yes, I have promised her that I will go and I will not break that promise. Besides, you will be in London with Aunt and Uncle Gardiner. Even if I stayed we would not be together." Jane frowned. Looking at Elizabeth beseechingly she tried again.

"You could stay in London too. Our aunt would be glad to have you, and—." Elizabeth shook her head.

"You know how disappointed Emma would be. I have promised many times to visit her, but this is the first time in years that I could go." Jane sighed and leaned over to hug her sister. Though they would be apart for only a short time, she would miss her terribly. Jane couldn't even think how she would get along once they both had married.

"Just promise me you won't let Emma keep you too long." Elizabeth laughed at her sister and promised to be home as soon as she could.

* * *

Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam laughed together at a joke the Colonel had just told. The long trip to Highbury hardly seemed to last long at all as they joked and talked their way through the miles. Neither was particularly happy to be seeing Lady Catherine, but the two cousins felt that they could survive the trip with little strife.

Colonel Fitzwilliam was planning to spend many hours with his good friend Knightly. Though Darcy had never met the man, he had heard a great deal about him and was happy that he would have time to get to know him. From what the Colonel said, they should get along famously.

* * *

Mr. Knightly traced the familiar steps to Hartfield. His near daily visits had made it so he could walk the distance from Donwell Abbey to Hartfield with his eyes closed. As he crossed the threshold, he was surprised to see the occupants in a flurry of action. Curious, he cleared his throat, startling Emma who had been overseeing the whole of the activity.

"What is the occasion?" Emma walked over to him, leaving the servants to finish on their own.

"Elizabeth is coming." Knightley racked his brain for a minute before he could think of any Elizabeth.

"Ah, your friend from… where was it?"

"Hertfordshire." Knightley raised an eyebrow, incredulous.

"Hertfordshire? That is quite a distance." Emma nodded in agreement.

"That is why she has not come very often and when she does, she often cannot stay long. When Isabella was still here I could visit her, but now as I am the only one here, I cannot leave father. She has been here before, but you always are in London on business or some such thing. Promise me you will allow me to introduce the two of you." Knightley was happy to agree. He had been curious about this Elizabeth for a long time. He wondered at such a friendship, for he knew that Elizabeth was socially Emma's inferior and the distance between them made it hard for them to meet. How did their friendship survive such problems? Knightley hoped his questions would be answered soon. He had no intention of missing an introduction with Emma's very close friend.

Knightley ended the visit far earlier than he had planned. As she was organizing the servants, Emma had little time to talk to him and Mr. Woodhouse was busy writing a reply to his friend, a Mr. Bennet. Knightley returned to Donwell Abbey and began preparations of his own. He planned to call on Fitzwilliam the next day, so he had to clear up any business that might interfere with the time with his friend.

Elizabeth relaxed into the cushioned seating of the carriage. She was flattered that Emma would send her own private carriage for her, instead of a coach. She knew Emma could not accompany her for the journey, as she could not leave her father, so Elizabeth picked out a few books to take with her in the carriage. The familiar views from the nearby lanes held no interest for her. It was only as she grew closer to Highbury that her eyes began to devourer the scenery.

Much had altered since her last visit. She regretted not having come before this, but her father was always reluctant to part with her, even more so than Jane, and it was rare that he would ever allow her to leave if Jane was also to go. Without them very little sense was ever spoken at Longbourn.

As Elizabeth stepped out of the carriage, she was enfolded in a warm embrace from her friend. "Dear Emma, I am so happy to see you."

"Oh Lizzy, it has been far too long."

"Do come in, do. You will catch your death exposing yourself to the weather like that. Your father would never forgive me if I let you catch your death." Mr. Woodhouse stood inside the entryway nervously glancing at the clear blue sky as though it was about to let loose with rain any second. The two friends pulled apart, identical expressions of amusement in their eyes.

Elizabeth couldn't quite understand the relationship between Mr. Woodhouse and her father. It had been her friendship with Emma that had brought it about, but she had no clue what they could write to each other. The correspondence between them demanded at least a letter a week and Elizabeth often found her father chuckling over some part of Woodhouse's newest letter. Unlike most of his other correspondence, Mr. Bennet would not share Woodhouse's letters, even with his favorite daughter. They would simply have to remain a mystery.

Smiling to herself, Elizabeth walked through the doors of Hartfield feeling a sense of comfort wash over her. Though it could not be any less like Longbourn, Hartfield still felt like a home away from home.

* * *

Just the prologue. The interesting stuff is coming soon. =)


	2. Introductions All Around

Thanks to my reviewers, AnitaMisra, Wendi Triplet Mom, Erika, and ChocolateIsMyDrug. =)

* * *

Inside Rosings both Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam sat attentive as Lady Catherine spoke to them. But the moment she turned away, Fitzwilliam would lean back on the couch and close his eye and begin to snore softly, making his cousin have to cough several times to hide his laughter. After a few hours of pretending to attend their aunt, both gentlemen were pleased to hear the servant announce that Mr. Knightley had called and was waiting for them in the study. Lady Catherine, having an aversion to Knightley's company decided to let the gentlemen leave without her.

Inside the study, they found Knightley sitting in an armchair, armed with a book. He stood as they entered and greeted the colonel warmly.

"Fitzwilliam! Good to see you." The two men shook hands. Darcy was quickly introduced and the men soon fell into easy conversation. It was about an hour later that Knightley finally looked at his watch.

"Excuse me, Fitzwilliam, Darcy. I promised another friend of mine that I should call on her. Do forgive me, but I must leave now." Darcy and Fitzwilliam both offered regrets that he could not stay, and wished to prolong their time with him. In the end it was decided that they should accompany him on his call.

* * *

Elizabeth and Emma sat in the drawing room with Mr. Woodhouse, the two women making up for all the lost time, and relating any news that had not been mentioned in their correspondence.

"Where is Miss Taylor?" Elizabeth had been quick to notice the absence, but she had just thought it was temporary.

"Poor Miss Taylor!" Elizabeth looked up at Mr. Woodhouse, startled.

"What has happened to her?" Emma stifled a laugh.

"Miss Taylor is now Mrs. Weston."

"Mrs. Weston? I thought Mr. Weston would never marry!" Emma sat up a little straighter and her eyes took on a triumphant gleam.

"All that was needed was a little careful nudging and wedding bell were soon heard." Elizabeth did not share her friend's pleasure.

"You mean that you acted as a matchmaker?" Emma nodded still proud of herself. "Such things are not well done. Take my sister for example, she fell in love with the man who leased the home next to ours, and he with her. His sisters encouraged him to London with the hope of matching him with another woman. Do you see how matchmaking could easily hurt parties rather than help them? If two people are meant to be together, let them decide that. Love should take place between two people, and no third party should influence it." Emma listened to her friend's lecture, thinking it very familiar. Had not Mr. Knightley given her near the same speech?

A sudden idea of Mr. Knightley and Elizabeth getting married appeared in the front of her mind. She discarded it quickly. Though it would be nice to have Elizabeth so close, Mr. Knightley would never marry, and Donwell would go to her nephew, Henry.

The conversation was ended as the sound of crunching gravel told Emma that Mr. Knightley had come to pay a call as he'd promised. Leading Elizabeth to the door, Emma was startled to see not only Mr. Knightley, but two other gentlemen she did not know. It wasn't until they had all entered the hall that Darcy and Elizabeth recognized the other.

"Miss Elizabeth!" Darcy stopped abruptly, nearly tripping Colonel Fitzwilliam.

"Mr. Darcy." Elizabeth gasped the words, clearly shocked that he should be so far away from Derbyshire.

Here the party reached a standstill. Not a single member of the party knew all of the others. Emma, Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam each knew two of the assembled, while Darcy and Knightley had the advantage of knowing three. Even so, the question of who would make introductions was still a difficult one. In the end it was Knightley who gave them.

"Emma, this is Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam. Gentlemen, may I introduce my dear friend Emma Woodhouse."

"This is Elizabeth Bennet, my good friend. Elizabeth, allow me to introduce Mr. Knightley." Respective curtsies and bows were traded all around. Knightley looked at Elizabeth wonderingly.

"Bennet? You wouldn't be related to Mr. Woodhouse's friend, a Mr. Bennet, would you?" Elizabeth dipped her head in acknowledgement.

"He is my father." The party quickly moved to the drawing room, upon Emma's request. Mr. Woodhouse vacated the room in favor of his study so as to compose his reply to Mr. Bennet.

Colonel Fitzwilliam sat next to Elizabeth on the sofa, and commandeered her attention and conversation. Darcy chose to sit where he would have the best view of the fair Miss Bennet, but unfortunately for him that meant sitting next to Emma, and attempting to fend off her attempts at conversation.

Knightley sat close to Elizabeth, but as she was discussing Darcy and his behavior in Hertfordshire, he could participate little. Instead he chose to watch Emma and Darcy as one made many attempts to entice her companion to talk, while the other simply answered in monosyllables. Both being incredibly stubborn, they unknowingly provided Knightley with a source of diversion as they each tried to bend the other to their will. Finally it seemed that Emma had given up, but she continued to look at Darcy with a peculiar look in her eye. Worried that Emma would go off on another misguided attempt at matchmaking, Knightley resolved himself to have a word with her about it soon.

As each of the party got lost in their different pursuits, the time raced around them. Altogether too soon it was time for the gentlemen to take their leave.

Colonel Fitzwilliam was very vocal in expressing regrets that they could not stay longer. Darcy said little, but no one expected him to offer more than what was strictly necessary. Knightley gave Emma a cautioning glance, but he would not chastise her with so many people witness. There were some things that were only meant to pass between the two of them and, being the old friends that they were, his scolding was one of them.

* * *

The next chapter is about 4/5 written and it's a really fun chapter. It should be published soon, and then things will really get interesting. =)


	3. Matchmaking Plans

Same day update, pretty impressive in my opinion. This chapter is much longer than the others, but I just couldn't stop. Hope you like it. And thanks to ChocolateIsMyDrug for reviewing to the last chapter.

* * *

The party that had assembled at Hartford a few days earlier found themselves again altogether in that house, each enjoying much the same pursuit as last time. The only difference was that Knightley had joined Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth's conversation.

"How did your father meet Mr. Woodhouse?" Knightley wondered aloud. Elizabeth smiled, thinking back.

"My father has never actually met Mr. Woodhouse. Their only connection is through letters."

"How did their correspondence come into being if that is so?"

"It started after I met Emma. Mr. Woodhouse sent a letter home with me explaining what happened. My father replied to it and the rest is history."

"But how did you meet Emma?" Elizabeth chuckled as she relived the memory.

"I was taking a coach home from my aunt and uncle's in London, but through a miscommunication with the driver I ended up in Hartfield instead of Hertfordshire. Without the necessary funds to pay for a trip from here to Meryton, I had to encroach on the Woodhouse's hospitality. The next day it rained, and Mr. Woodhouse would not hear of me traveling in the rain. After I was told this, it rained another ten days straight." Both Fitzwilliam and Knightley couldn't help but chuckle at the irony. "In that time I became good friends with Emma and when the rain finally let up, we exchanged promises to write and visit when we could." The two gentlemen who made up her audience looked at her in awe and admiration. Knightley was happy that Emma should find such a sensible, yet amiable friend. The colonel couldn't help but admire her sense of humor and lively sprit and mind. He was very sure that if he had a fortune and could marry where he liked, he would most definitely chose her.

* * *

Darcy, learning from the last visit, chose a chair far away from Emma, but he could do nothing when she stood and came to sit beside him.

"Do you like Highbury?" Darcy grimaced. Would she not leave him alone?

"I have yet to see it."

"Well then, are you pleased with Hartfield?"

"Few would not be pleased." Emma held back her chuckle. She knew it was not fair to him that she was taking advantage of his shy nature, but it was quite a bit of fun.

"And where do you come from originally?" Darcy's hands were balled into fists. In his mind he thought back to Caroline commenting on the neatness of his writing. He banished that thought. Even though he was annoyed, it was just cruel to compare Emma with Caroline.

"Derbyshire."

"How do you know Elizabeth? You seemed quite shocked when you saw her yesterday." Darcy hesitated, wanting to give his answer so that no small drop of his slight attraction to Elizabeth might leak into his words.

"I met Miss Bennet in Hertfordshire, when I went to visit my good friend Bingley." Emma stopped her questioning, much to Darcy's relief, but her continuous staring made him quite uncomfortable.

Again the time seemed to fly by, but this time, Mr. Knightley did not leave with the other gentlemen. Instead he asked Emma if she would favor him with a walk. Emma, knowing that he wished to speak with her (and perhaps scold her) agreed. It was not until they had gone out of Elizabeth's sight that Knightley began.

"Emma, do you have any plans to try and set up Mr. Darcy with a wife?" Emma laughed at the idea, but Knightley remained serious. "This is not a laughing matter."

"To you perhaps not, but I find the idea amusing, for I never thought of it and I would never have thought of it, but for your suggesting it." Knightley furrowed his brow and stopped walking. He had never known Emma to be able to lie to him, yet her words sounded true to his ears.

"You never even thought of it?"

"No, I have quite given up matchmaking." This astonished Knightley beyond all measure.

"You have?" Knightley shook himself and began again this time in a teasing tone. "I'm glad you decided to finally start listening to my advice." Emma laughed at him.

"It was not _your_ advice, for you know I never listen to it." Knightley could not think who else would give her that advice.

"Your father?" Emma took his arm and they continued walking again.

"It was Elizabeth who showed me how an attempt at matchmaking can actually make both parties more miserable. I decided then that I should give up the practice." Knightley found yet another reason to admire Emma's friend. Though he had only known her for a few days, Knightley had become certain that Elizabeth was the perfect companion for Emma. Knightley returned to the house in better sprits than when he had set out. He took his leave of the ladies and walked back to Donwell, smiling all the way.

* * *

"Mr. Darcy?" Darcy looked up hopefully, excitement growing. Alas, it was only Miss Woodhouse who approached him. "You are quite a distance from Rosings. Do you usually make such long walks, or was there something special about this path?" Emma had decided to embark on a walk while Elizabeth took care of her correspondence to her sister and father. She had not thought of meeting anyone, let alone Darcy.

"I am very fond of walking." This was not quite a lie, yet not quite an answer. Darcy was unwilling to disclose his growing affection to the good friend of its object. He turned off onto another path, hoping to be rid of Emma, but she persisted in following him.

"I know another person very fond of walking; perhaps you were hoping to meet with her." Emma smirked as Darcy's step faltered and he stumbled over a tree root. Catching himself he continued walking while looking everywhere, but at his companion, hoping his blush was not too apparent. "You cannot hide it from me. Indeed, though Elizabeth may be oblivious, you have not exactly been subtle in your staring." Darcy stopped walking abruptly, taking Emma by surprise.

"She does not know? How can she not?" Emma shrugged her shoulders.

"I have no idea. As I said, you have not been making much effort to hide it. It might be that I was looking for it while she was not."

"What does she think of me?" Darcy decided that since Emma was Elizabeth's close friend, perhaps she had a view of the inner workings Elizabeth's heart.

"I have never heard her talk of a man more." Darcy smiled hugely, his mind drifting off. Hope filled his heart and his mind. Her talking of him that was a good sign, surely. Emma cleared her throat to bring his attention back to the present. "Though what she has to say is not always pleasant. She is either well on her way to being in love with you," Darcy's smiled widened, "or she hates you prodigiously." Darcy's smiled melted away in an instant. Could Elizabeth really hate him?

"Which do you think the more likely?" Emma put a comforting hand on his arm.

"The latter." Darcy heaved a dejected sigh.

"But why?" Emma shook her head slowly.

"I'm not completely sure. She keeps mentioning something about being 'tolerable'." Darcy felt like smashing his head into a nearby tree. What a fool he was then. And what a fool he was still! Only now he was a fool in love.

"Oh, God! She heard me." Emma checked the question that seemed to dance on her tongue. Now was not the time to indulge her curiosity.

"You can take heart in one thing; she is certainly not indifferent to you." Darcy looked up at her, a reluctant hope rising to his eyes. "Love and hate are close bedfellows. A little gentle prodding could easily turn her hatred into a feeling quite the opposite." Darcy's mood jumped from dismal to jubilant in an instant. He took her hand and deposited a grateful kiss upon it.

"God bless you, Emma!" He exclaimed, feeling like jumping up and down like a school boy. They continued their walk, carefully planning the wooing of Miss Elizabeth.

On a hill, not far from the happy pair, Mr. Knightley sat astride his horse, watching the scene below with considerable unease. He could not hear the conversation, but he could clearly see their actions. Emma, placing her hand on his arm with a familiarity that was not proper for their acquaintance of a few days. Then the affectionate kiss Darcy had placed on her hand had caused Knightley to squirm in his seat as Emma did not object. Then the cry of "God bless you, Emma!" that had been easily discernable to his ears. Why was his Emma allowing such a breach of propriety?

Wait, when had she become _his _Emma? In what way was she his? His old friend? No, his feelings were much stronger than that. Was it brotherly affection and protection? His mind rebelled at the thought. No, if it was merely brotherly, he would not care so much about losing her.

He knew the day would come. Emma was beautiful and had wealth enough to marry where she chose. Eventually someone would presume to be worthy of her and ask for her hand. Someday she would accept one of them, and Knightley would be left alone, without a second thought.

No, Emma was better than that. She would wish him a heartfelt goodbye and promise to write and visit, but would that be enough?

Knightley shook his head, not quite ready to face the full of his feelings for Emma. There would come a time when he must evaluate them, but for now he would simply shake them from his thoughts and continue his ride home in peace. Or at least he would try.

* * *

Now it gets interesting. =) But this is only the beginning. =)


	4. Visitations

The gentlemen of Rosings decided to pay a call on Mr. Knightley the next day. After both retrieved their horses, they quickly urged them to an easy gait. The road to Donwell was neither long nor difficult, and the cousins found themselves there in little less than a quarter hour. They were shown into Knightley's study, and were quite surprised by the manner of greeting he gave them. To Colonel Fitzwilliam he was perfectly amiable, but when greeting Darcy, he seemed to grow cold and distant. Neither of his companions knew what to make of it.

"Have you had a chance to take a stroll hereabouts, Mr. Darcy?" These were the first words in an hour he had addressed to the gentleman.

"I did take a walk near Hartford, but that is the extent of my walking so far." Knightley repressed the urge to glare at Darcy, after hearing him openly admit to the walk. After that, he could not bring himself to address the man again. Instead, he devoted what time he could to categorizing Darcy's faults.

Darcy was not a completely amiable man, too reserved and awkward to suit Emma. He did not smile enough and though he was intelligent, Knightley doubted that he could offer the level of sense that Emma needed from a husband. And he lived too far away.

Being sensible, Knightley could see that most of his objections were easily surpassed and together, they amounted to little. Yet, even as he acknowledged this, he could not shake the feeling that something was not right in a union between Emma and Darcy. A voice in his head continually told him to be wary. So, he watched Darcy critically, still unsure as to the source of his discomfort.

Feeling that there was something wrong with Knightley, the other gentlemen did not stay above an hour, returning to Rosings with some confusion over their friend's behavior. Knightley himself did not remain long in Donwell Abbey. The feelings of discomfort remained even after Darcy had long gone. The only thing he could think the help clear them was a walk to Hartfield.

The closer Knightley got to Hartfield, the happier he felt. The house drew him in somehow, and he was more than happy to obey it. His good mood quickly dissipated upon entering the house however. It seemed that only Mr. Woodhouse was in attendance as Both Emma and Elizabeth had gone to call on the new Mrs. Collins, an old friend of Elizabeth's. Normally this would not have injured his mood to the extreme that it did now, but he knew that Mr. Collins was Lady Catherine's steward and resided at Rosings with his wife. And Rosings was also the current residence of Mr. Darcy.

It vexed him greatly that he was stuck at Hartfield, under obligation to pay his call to Mr. Woodhouse, while Emma and Darcy were furthering their acquaintance miles away from him. His body remained tense and his nerves on edge through the whole of the visit. And this time, he did not even attempt to question why.

* * *

The colonel and Darcy had not been long returned to Rosings when Darcy spotted Emma in the front hall. His heart rising to his throat, he caught her eye and silently asked her where Elizabeth was. She smiled and a slight jerk of her head indicated that he should come over to her, which he did without hesitation. She looked around them carefully before whispering conspiratorially in his ear.

"Elizabeth is here to visit her friend, Mrs. Collins, in the drawing room, third door on the left." She pointed the door to him to insure he knew it. "There is a book lying on the far table entitled 'The Story of the Stone*'. After some time has elapsed, enough for them to have caught up with everything they must, go into the room, excuse yourself stating that you had left you book in that room. I shall invite you to stay, and then you must take advantage of every possible opportunity." Darcy nodded, unsure of his voice. Emma entered the same room she had pointed out to him.

Darcy waited in an empty room and watched the clock tick by. How long should he wait? Had it been long enough? After a lengthy period of time had passed, Darcy could stand it no longer. As he walked to the room, he reminded himself of all Emma had told him to do.

He must be absolutely civil, to everyone in the room and make sure that he talk to everyone and simply make himself agreeable. That he could do. And he must smile; his mask of cold indifference had to go.

"_And stop staring at her. She thinks you are looking with disapproval and that hardly helps her form a favorable opinion of you."_ Emma's reproach sounded in his mind.

He scoffed as he remembered. Looking at her with disapproval? Disapproval was always the farthest thing from his mind.

He stood outside the door biting his lip in anticipation. He could hear voices in there, telling him he had reached the right door. Now there were only a few inches of wood separating him from his love. Yet his hand froze, hovering above the doorknob. Several deep breaths later, he was still standing there, shaking uncontrollably. What if he made a mistake and she thought even less of him? Was it even possible to earn her good opinion? He didn't deserve it, so how could he ever aspire to think himself worthy of even _trying_ to earn it? Finally his choice was made for him as Emma loudly spoke, knowing that he could hear every word.

"Did you hear that? I think there is someone at the door." Darcy opened it before she had finished her very blatant hint. He bowed to the room at large.

"Please excuse me for interrupting, but I believe that I left my book in here, 'The Story of the…' um…," Darcy had made the mistake of looking at Elizabeth and catching her eye. As he looked into those beautiful pools of light, all other thoughts disappeared, including the name of the book he was supposedly searching for. A small cough from Emma brought his mind back. "Stone." He finished, a bit belatedly. Emma put a hand over her eyes in exasperation.

Darcy attempted to ignore all of the members of the room and made his way to the back table. Finding the book there as Emma had said, he picked it up and began to leave the room.

"Perhaps you would like to stay and talk with us?" Darcy turned towards the familiar voice, but it was not Emma who spoke, it was Mrs. Collins who Darcy now recognized as Miss Lucas from Hertfordshire.

"I would be honored."

* * *

*If you're interested, The Story of the Stone by Cao Xueqin. Written 1763.


	5. A More Civil Mr Darcy

Again I update twice in one day! Am I amazing or what? =)

* * *

Elizabeth shot a look over at Charlotte, wondering why she would invite the disagreeable man to join them. While looking over at her friend, she missed Darcy smile that was, though presented to the room at large, generally directed at her. Charlotte saw it, however and was very much amused. She had guessed of Darcy's growing affection for her friend since early on in Hertfordshire, but now she was certain of it. She had not missed the look that passed over him as he looked at her, and even now, the stoic Mr. Darcy she knew was gone. In his place, another gentleman remained, one much less intimidating and rather nervous. He sat near Charlotte, and began a conversation, much to the lady's surprise.

"Are your family well, Mrs. Collins?" Out of Darcy's line of sight, Elizabeth raised an eyebrow at her friend? Neither was quite sure where the civility was coming from, though Charlotte had some theories.

"Quite well, I thank you." Anticipating the conversation to end there, Charlotte was about to turn away, but Darcy surprised her once more.

"And are you enjoying Highbury? Though I myself am biased and believe Derbyshire to be the greatest of counties, Surrey has quite surpassed my expectations." Neither Elizabeth nor Charlotte knew Darcy to be capable of such civility when he wished to express it, and the former could not think why he was choosing to expressing it now, unless…

Elizabeth turned her eyes towards Emma curiously. Emma's eyes shown with approval as she watched Darcy continue to converse with Charlotte. Elizabeth watched Darcy from the corner of her eye and saw him glance over at Emma and give her a smile. Was that the reason for the sudden change in Darcy's manners? Had he fallen in love? A smirk played on Elizabeth's lips. Emma had only just stopped matchmaking when she found a husband for herself. How ironic.

After a considerable amount of time, Darcy and Charlotte's conversation ended. Darcy moved to talk with Emma while Charlotte commanded Elizabeth's attention.

"Lizzy, what do you make of the new Mr. Darcy?" Elizabeth shot another glance Darcy's way and shrugged.

"I do not know what to say. How such a transformation came about, I can but guess." Elizabeth excused herself for a bit of fresh air, and no one objected to her plan.

Charlotte shifted her focus to the quiet conversation that was taking place across the room. Silently she rose and walked past the group to search for something. No one seemed to take particular notice of the action, so she listened to the conversation.

"Why must I come and talk to you? I need not earn your good opinion." Darcy spoke softly and Charlotte shifted herself closer to them.

"But you wish to earn hers. Talking to me makes you seem more amiable in her eyes as you are striving to converse with people, and it is even better as I am her good friend. There is also the advantage that you do not have to worry about saying the wrong thing to me." Darcy frowned at her still.

"I acknowledge that as true, but could I not leave the room, prepare for a ride or something and just happen to bump into her? She is not here, so talking to you will do nothing at present." Emma sighed in exasperation.

"You do not want it to look like you are following her; that is just as bad as staring. Do not frighten her. Also, your attempts at civility should not stop simply because she leaves the room. The people you are agreeable with may gossip and talk about you with her." Darcy grudgingly allowed her to be right and agreed on each point.

"I still have not had a chance to talk with her."

"I doubt she would have been completely civil if you had. Trust me, you will get a chance to talk with her soon and, if you order the carriage for us, perhaps you may hand us in." Emma gave Darcy a mischievous smile that he couldn't help but return.

"Fear not, good lady. I shall not tarry and the quest will be completed." Darcy stood, offered her an exaggerated bow complete with a flourish, and exited the room, hearing her light laughter following him out the door.

Charlotte was quite in awe of the playful side of Darcy she had not known, and had long forgotten what she was pretending to search for. She walked around the sofa and sat in Darcy's recently vacated spot. Emma looked up in surprise.

"I suppose you heard most of that." Emma said worriedly. Would Charlotte tell Elizabeth? After she had sworn off matchmaking, could Elizabeth forgive her for attempting it for her? Charlotte nodded and Emma's face fell.

"There was not much that I had not earlier assumed. I knew of Mr. Darcy's attraction and guessed that was the reason behind his civility, but I never thought that you were a part of it." Emma blinked in surprise. Had Darcy been as obvious in Hertfordshire?

"You will not tell Elizabeth?" Emma entreated her new acquaintance, taking hold of one of her hands.

"I tried to tell her many times that Mr. Darcy liked her, yet she never believed me. If I tried to tell her again she would just laugh it off." Emma sighed in relief.

"If Elizabeth knew the truth of what he felt for her, she would never be able to be herself around him, or ever love him. For now she must remain ignorant." Both women agreed and Charlotte offered her wish to help when Elizabeth entered.

"What is Charlotte going to help you with Emma?" Charlotte and Emma sent each other worried looks and swallowed. Finally Charlotte came up with an acceptable excuse.

"I am going to help her with the accounts. I have learned much from helping my husband." Elizabeth did not seem to believe the lie causing even more worry between the conspirators.

"Can't Mr. Knightley help with the accounts? I would think he would have greater experience and knowledge." Charlotte opened her mouth, but having never met the gentleman, she could offer not excuse.

"He also has a good deal less free time." Emma spoke quickly nearly rushing the words, but thankfully Mr. Darcy came to her rescue.

"Your carriage awaits." Darcy quickly offered his arm to both Elizabeth and Emma. Emma took it immediately, but Elizabeth seemed to consider refusing it. Finally, she relented, causing much happiness to her three companions. Charlotte followed them out to say her goodbyes.

"Goodbye Mrs. Collins. I hope you will call soon." Charlotte pressed Emma's hand in a friendly gesture.

"Please call me Charlotte." Emma smiled and quickly responded in kind.

"Then you must call me Emma. I hope you shall call soon, Charlotte."

"And I shall. Good day, Emma." Emma allowed herself to be handed into the carriage by Darcy. They smiled at each other. Darcy then turned to Elizabeth. With a broad smile, he handed her into the carriage, resisting the impulse to hold onto her hand after she had settled. _Don't frighten her away!_

"Safe journey, Miss Woodhouse. Goodbye, Miss Bennet." He closed the door and watched them leave, sadness plaguing his features. Charlotte looked up to see pools of tears in his eyes. Split between wishing to offer him comfort and not wanting to witness his moment of weakness, she stood there, helpless. It was only when the tears fell onto his cheeks that she offered her handkerchief. Darcy started; unaware she was still standing behind him.

"Don't worry, Elizabeth will come around. Just be yourself. I think you are exactly the type of man to suit her." Charlotte did not give him a chance to respond as she walked away, not even bothering to retrieve her handkerchief.

* * *

Awww… I love making Darcy cry and he'll have plenty of opportunities to do that in later chapters. No Knightley in this chapter, but we will check in on him soon. He still has to face the reason why he hates Darcy and what he's going to do about it. =)


	6. The Best Laid Plans

School has started so updates have been fewer, but I'm getting better accustomed to it so I hope it won't hamper progress too much.

* * *

When the two women returned to Hartfield, Knightley was still there. The three of the settled comfortably in the drawing room, and Knightley spent the time principally in talking to Elizabeth, wishing to know more of Emma's quite sensible friend.

"You come from Hertfordshire I believe, Miss Bennet." The lady nodded before elaborating.

"Yes, our home is near Meryton."

"And what of your family? I know your father is Mr. Woodhouse's friend, but what of your brothers, your mother?" Elizabeth chuckled lightly, though Knightley couldn't understand why.

"My mother, well, she is a rather vocal person, but she does have a good heart. As to brothers, I have none. I do have four sisters however." Knightley was slightly taken aback by the number of sisters and lack of brothers. A sudden thought hit him, but propriety would not let him ask it. Not directly at least.

"I do hope that not having brothers does not put your father or yourself in any kind of financial trouble." Elizabeth sighed sadly.

"I'm afraid that it does. You see, the estate is entailed, so once my father is gone, we shall have no place to live and very little to split between us."

"May I ask whom the estate is entailed upon?" Elizabeth frowned, but only at the thought of her cousin, not at Knightley's question.

"Do you know Lady Catherine's steward, Mr. Collins?"

"I do." Knightley waited for Elizabeth to elaborate, but she did not, only sending him a pointed glance. After a few minutes, he understood. "Mr. Collins? He is to inherit?" Elizabeth smiled sadly.

"Everything, I'm afraid. He is my cousin. Thankfully it seems we have little in common." Knightley laughed at the last statement, lightening the atmosphere considerably. He continued to ask questions, but they remained of a much lighter subject matter and involved quite a bit of teasing.

Emma sat to the side, a silent bystander. She did not feel the need to encroach on their conversation as she was busy in quiet reflection. Watching Elizabeth, she had decided that she was in fact the perfect match for Darcy, and even if he was not already violently in love with her, it was probable that it would not take long before he was.

* * *

Seeing Mr. Knightley at Hartfield was never an uncommon thing, but Knightley was even more compelled to go after learning more about Elizabeth. After only a few meetings, he considered her a good friend, and was always glad to talk to her about anything and everything. Thus, it was at a small and rather intimate dinner party that he brought up a subject that was always close to the front of his mind, and, if he was being completely honest with himself, close to his heart.

"Miss Bennet?" The lady jumped; unaware that anyone had been so close to her.

"Yes, Mr. Knightley?" He did not speak for several seconds, wondering if he should speak what was on his mind at all.

"What is your opinion of Emma's relationship with Mr. Darcy?" Elizabeth looked over at the two who were having a private conversation on the other side of the room. She was surprised to see that Darcy was a willing participant in this exchange.

"They seem to get on well together, I have never seen Darcy talk so much or so willingly. He even seems amiable now. I think she is having a good influence on him." Elizabeth turned back to Knightley in time to catch his stricken expression.

"But Derbyshire is such a distance away, and Emma could not leave her father. She herself has said many times that she will not marry."

"Ideas change, people change. She may have _said_ she will never marry, but I think that once she falls in love, she may have changed her mind. As to distance, what is fifty miles of good road, when one has the wealth to make them a comfortable journey? Simply a day's trip." Knightley mumbled something that to Elizabeth's ears sounded quite coarse. "Ah, I see what the problem is. You don't want her to marry because that would require her not only to leave her father, but you as well." Mr. Knightley blushed, but could make no argument. There was no use in arguing what Elizabeth had already discovered as true.

"Does she talk of me?" Knightley couldn't stand not knowing what Emma's opinion of him was. The easiest way was to ask her friend.

"Yes, but that is to be expected. You are old friends," here Knightley cringed, "after all. How did you discover your feelings for her?" The affectionate kiss on the hand and the passionate cry, both engrained in his memory, flashed up to the forefront of his mind. He would not tell her though. Such thoughts were too private even for a good friend.

"Jealousy." That was all he could manage.

"It could be that she does have feelings beyond friendship for you, but the years that you have been friends are blinding her to them. Perhaps if she became jealous as you, she might grow to realize her feelings." Knightley turned his eyes away from Emma at last. Elizabeth could see the hope that shown within them.

"Would you be willing to pretend that we had an understanding? Perhaps if it is her friend that she is jealous of, it will make her realize her feelings sooner." Elizabeth agreed before she had really given the idea much thought. There was something in his eyes that she could not resist. The desperation in them cut at her heart, making any objection she could have to the plan become meaningless.

"Thank you, Miss Bennet. I am proud to count you as a friend." The only reply he received to those words was a warm smile.

The guests took their leave, but Knightley and Darcy both paused, allowing the others to depart before them, and insuring that they would have some time with the two ladies.

As the gentlemen took their leave, both Emma and Darcy was shocked to witness Knightley gently take Elizabeth's hand and bestow a kiss upon it. Emma shot a quick glance at Darcy to see the pain radiate across his face. Darcy's heart broke as Knightley's lips touched her skin and each of the pieces proceeded to break again as he stared into her eyes with an expression that bespoke of love. Questions raged through both Emma and Darcy's minds desperately, neither liking the way the events had turned. How had they never before noticed Knightley's attentions to Elizabeth? How far had those attentions progressed? And, most importantly, was there any chance to end them?

In reality, Knightley's expression spoke of nothing more than gratitude. While Darcy and Emma had both been caught up in their thoughts, both he and Elizabeth had shot a quick glance at Emma and were both satisfied by the unhappy and confused expression there. Knightley smiled at Elizabeth again, this time his eyes held hope.

* * *

It wouldn't be fair if I only tortured Knightley, now would it? Thus, I must allow Darcy to share some of it. This story is a lot of fun to write. =)


	7. Walks in the Country

The next day found a very agitated Darcy storming down the path that conjoined Rosings with Hartfield. He hoped to meet Emma on this walk, and was not disappointed. Emma had foreseen his need to talk with her, and had walked out to meet him. Once they had met on the path, Emma stopped. Darcy began pacing back and forth along the trail, sending both dirt and ricks flying with his angry strides. He worried the signet ring on his pinkie trying to find a sufficient outlet for his irritation. Emma waited patiently and quietly for his outburst.

"Why do these things happen to me?" He yelled at last. "First she hates me, and now she is accepting the attentions of another man! What will happen next? Will I be told that she is going to stay in this appalling place forever?" Emma sent him a sharp glance, warning him that he had crossed a line. "Forgive me, Emma," he spoke in a gentler tone, "but I just can't take this. Good God, someone must really hate me." Emma's eyes softened a bit as she accepted his apology.

"It may come to nothing. She may not like Mr. Knightley's attentions. Perhaps she only accepted them to make you jealous?"

"Do you think that likely?" Emma was very aware of how improbable it was, but upon seeing the hope that rose to Darcy's eyes, she could not bring herself to voice her opinion.

"It is possible. Even if that is not true, I am sure that she could not marry Mr. Knightley. You and Elizabeth are perfect for each other, whereas Mr. Knightley and Elizabeth are not. He is too… too…" She trailed off, unsure of what she was going to say next.

Too sensible? No, in that respect, he and Elizabeth were well suited.

Too mature? That wasn't it either.

Too moral? Was it even possible to be too moral?

Too tall? Ridiculous. Emma ended the line of thinking right there, knowing that it could only get worse.

Not having been able to successfully choose an adjective, she was forced to go with the first one that popped into her mind.

"Too serious." Internally Emma cringed after saying this, knowing that Darcy was just as serious as Mr. Knightley. Thankfully, Darcy's inferior knowledge of the gentleman drove him not to question her.

They walked on, the silence expanding between them, but not uncomfortably. Darcy's mind was still replaying and worrying over the kiss Mr. Knightley had placed on Elizabeth's hand, while Emma was irritated that she could not come up with a better reason why Elizabeth and Mr. Knightley were not a good match. Still, she could not put words to the feeling she had. All she knew was that Elizabeth should not marry Mr. Knightley.

After ten silent minutes, Emma broke the stillness around them in an effort to distract herself from her thoughts.

"Darcy?" He turned to her, giving her his full attention. "What if you were to ask Elizabeth of her feelings for Mr. Knightley? Maybe you might have a better understanding of what you need to do." Darcy nodded, giving the idea a good deal of consideration.

"That might work. If she wanted me to be jealous, there would be signs in the way she spoke to me and in general manner." The idea was then settled, and Emma promised to send Elizabeth out on a walk later that day.

* * *

Emma had told her that this was the best time for a walk, but Elizabeth had yet to see anything unusual from her other walks. She had ambled up and down the country lanes and through the beautiful park, but nothing seemed substantially different. She decided to try a path near the border of the park, closest to Rosings.

"Miss Bennet." Elizabeth looked up, startled to find that she had met Darcy on her solitary ramble. She greeted him civilly, but was surprised when he turned around and fell into step with her. She snuck a few glances at him from the corner of her eye, still wondering at the change she could see in him. An actual smile was present on his face, lighting his features and making him look quite striking.

Darcy happily kept his eyes forward, his heart fluttering each time he felt her eyes on him, examining his face. He was not a vain man, but he knew that many people considered him handsome. He only hoped that Elizabeth thought the same. Once the silence grew too much for him to take any longer, Darcy began the conversation that he had planned with Emma.

"Miss Bennet, I was wondering if I might ask your opinion of Mr. Knightley." Elizabeth started a bit, wondering why he would ask such a strange question. Elizabeth opened her mouth to ask where the question tended, but closed it quickly as she remembered her 'understanding' with Knightley. Elizabeth was not comfortable in telling such a lie, knowing that it could affect her reputation when the truth came to light.

"He is a good man, and I confess that I like him a great deal." Elizabeth was pleased with this answer. It was all true and none of it could be considered scandalous if Knightley succeeded in his goal of marrying Emma. Darcy did not find it nearly so satisfying. Her liking Knightley "a great deal", seemed to him to be confessing to an understanding or, at the very least, love of the gentleman. Darcy did not answer, knowing that if he did, it would be only to insult Knightley. They walked in silence, but unlike the silence between Emma and Darcy earlier in the day, this silence was fraught with tension and awkwardness.

"Mr. Darcy?" Elizabeth finally worked up the courage to speak.

"Yes, Miss Elizabeth?" Darcy urged her to continue, eager to know what was on her mind.

"I have a question I would like to ask you in return, if it's not too personal." She blushed lightly and turned her eyes to the ground. Darcy smiled and felt his pulse race, quite willing to answer any question she might have, if only to hear her melodic voice. Darcy gestured for her to continue, choosing not to foul the air, which still rang with her angel-like voice, with his vulgar accent.

"What is the relationship between yourself and Emma?" She blushed again, but her eyes remained steady. Darcy paused, trying to dissect the possible hidden meanings of the question. Was she simply worried for her friend, or was the question asked out of jealousy? Thinking to his earlier conversation, Darcy gave the latter more credit than the former. This was exactly the sign that he had been searching for! Now he just had to make an answer that was warm enough to flame the jealousy, but not too warm as to scare her away.

"I like Miss Woodhouse very well. She is a very fine young woman and quite beautiful. I should not be ashamed to have a more intimate acquaintance with her." Elizabeth's face darkened and she frowned deeply. Darcy's heart soared as he watched the emotions play across her face. She muttered something under her breath that Darcy had to strain to hear.

"_What can be done now?" _He smiled, thinking that she was displeased by _his_ seeming to be attached to someone else. Little did he know, that Elizabeth was only thinking of Knightley.

* * *

Hmmmm… Darcy knew his feelings from the start, while Knightley was in denial. Now that Knightley has confessed his feelings, it seems that Emma is confused by hers. I'm sensing a pattern here. What will happen when Emma becomes sure of her feelings? I wonder... Oh well. =)


	8. Sunday

****

ChocolateIsMyDrug brought up some very good points and I would like to clarify them

**First, in response to the Darcy arrogance, you haven't seen much of it because Darcy is being coached by Emma. With her help, he is becoming the man Elizabeth would marry much quicker and with less pain. The arrogance seeps through every once and a while (like in the last chapter) but he's doing a good job reigning it in.**

**The other point was that Emma called Darcy by just his last name, though she throws a fit when Mrs. Elton does the same to Knightley. There is a difference. Mrs. Elton had never met Knightley when she presumed to call him that, but Emma is friends with Darcy. She uses Mr when speaking of Knightley mostly because of their age gap. Being a little kid while he was an adult, she had to call him Mr. Knightley. She became friends with Darcy as an adult, so she doesn't have the years of calling him Mr to stop her from using just his surname.**

**That's everything. Hope you like the chapter. =)**

* * *

The next day, being Sunday, brought them all together again for church. Elizabeth and Emma sat next to each other in the pew. Both Knightley and Darcy were slightly to the back of them, one to the right and the other to the left. The gentlemen passed the time staring at the object of their affections, but with the women seated next to each other, it was hard to distinguish which of the two ladies they were looking at.

Charlotte, being very observant to the feelings of others, was quick to spot Darcy's loving stare and to know where it was directed. After about halfway through the church service, she also noticed Knightley having the same expression and, to her horror, looking in the exact same place as Darcy. She observed him throughout the service, hoping to see some change, but there never was. By the end of the session she was sure that he was infatuated with Elizabeth.

After the service concluded, Emma and Elizabeth exited the church and were quickly found by their fervent admirers. Before anyone had a chance to say something however, Mr. Elton's voice called out from behind them.

"Miss Woodhouse." The four of them turned, to see the parson running towards them, but he only had eyes for Emma. "Miss Woodhouse, may I thank you once again for your kind invitation. I really am most gratified and I am honored to accept." Both Darcy and Knightley raised an eyebrow at this display. To Knightley's extreme vexation, Emma glanced at Darcy with the laughing twinkle he knew would be present in her eyes. In response to Darcy's silent question, she shrugged her shoulders and laughed. It was a very Emma thing to do.

Meanwhile, Charlotte paused outside the church while leaving, desperately searching for a way to speak to Emma in private.

"My dear, we must go." She turned to her husband who was anxiously watching Lady Catherine.

"If it would not trouble you, I planned to make a call on Emma and Elizabeth. I shall ride home with them." Mr. Collins could think of no argument and was hurried on by his employer's look of impatience. When Emma exited the church with Elizabeth, Charlotte rushed over to them.

"If you don't mind, I would like to pay a call on you and your father." Charlotte gave Emma a look that communicated her desperate need to talk with her. Emma did not hesitate in accepting.

In the carriage, Emma, Elizabeth and Charlotte laughed away the short drive. They reached the house before they knew it, and, as they were exiting, Charlotte put a hand on Emma's arm, signaling that she should let Elizabeth leave first.

The first thing Elizabeth did on returning to the house was to go inside and inquire after the post. While she was distracted, Emma and Charlotte took a short walk in the park.

"At church today I witnessed something very distressing." Emma raised an eyebrow in curiosity. "I happened to see that Mr. Darcy had fixed his eyes on Elizabeth, as I knew he would, but then, I also noticed that he was not alone in looking at her. Mr. Knightley too was focused on her and his attention never wavered. From what I saw, I do believe that he is very much in love." Emma gave a horrified gasp and bit her lip, trying to dissect her feelings. This news distressed her greatly, but why it should affect her so bothered her. She knew her worry to be partially driven by the knowledge of Darcy's love, but the strength of it startled her. For now she would put it aside and hope that it would come to nothing.

"I have some news to tell you in return. I held a dinner party a few days ago, and Mr. Knightley and Elizabeth did talk a bit, but I didn't think much of it at the time. At least, not until he kissed her hand when he took his leave." It was Charlotte's turn to gasp. She had hoped that it would only be a love from afar, but apparently Darcy was to have some competition. With Elizabeth and Darcy so perfect for each other, that would not be a good thing.

"What did she do?" Emma shook her head and looked down at her feet. They had both stopped walking now, and Emma unconsciously toed a rock.

"That is the worst part of the whole affair. She _welcomed _it." An idea fluttered into Charlotte's mind and caused her to observe Emma more closely. Before she could disregard the idea, she spoke words that would either prove or refute it.

"Maybe we should leave it as it is. Perhaps Elizabeth and Mr. Knightley were meant for each other." The flash of panic that arose to Emma's eyes was all the proof Charlotte needed. She took pity on her friend and continued. "Though that would cause pain to Mr. Darcy, which I don't wish to do. I think that we must allow Elizabeth the time to evaluate her feelings."

"I think that she does like Darcy, but is unwilling to admit it." Charlotte nodded her head in a gesture of agreement, though she did not agree.

"Perhaps she is not the only one who needs to admit her feelings." Charlotte strode away from Emma and back to the house, leaving her words still ringing in the air. Emma remained where she was, Charlotte's words floating around in her brain before finally settling in her breast. As her mind replayed the words, she came to a very disturbing conclusion. Charlotte was right.


	9. Love and Marriage?

Emma made her way back into the house, and sat with Charlotte and Elizabeth, but neither her heart nor her mind could focus on what was being said. When the visit was finally over, she provided her carriage for Charlotte. Elizabeth returned to her new letter from Jane, giving Emma too much time to think. With nothing better to do, she decided on a walk.

Though when she began the walk, she could be described as nothing but composed, the farther she went, the more distressed she felt. Then, like the turning of a switch, anger and frustration filled her. She began pacing on the path, angrily kicking up clouds of dirt and rocks. It was in this state that Darcy found her.

"Emma? Emma! Whatever is the matter with you?" Emma stopped, turned to look at him and promptly burst into tears, confusing even herself with her abrupt mood swing. Collapsing on the bench behind her, sobs began to rack her frame. Darcy sat next to her a little hesitantly. He could do nothing at present but wait for her sobs to subside. It was several minutes before they did.

"I love him." She said with a whimper. "Oh god, I love him." Darcy could only start at such a declaration. What could he say? Who could she possibly love to make her cry like that?

"Elton?" He inquired in a tone colored with disbelief. It was the only name he could think of and surly one that could make her cry. Emma shook her head violently, shaking a few more tears out of her eyes.

"I know it's wrong for me to have such feelings, after all the years we've known each other. We're practically brother and sister! Not to mention that he's sixteen years my senior and so superior to me. I can't explain it; I just know in my heart that he should not marry anyone, but me." Darcy's feeling of incredulity increased with every word.

"Am I to understand that you love _Mr. Knightley_?" The skepticism in Darcy's voice was very near insulting to her ears, but she could understand it. It had taken her a long time to believe it as well.

"Yes," she whispered, closing her eyes. Somehow, confessing it aloud drove it even more deeply into her mind. Darcy stared at her in disbelief, but slowly began to fully comprehend that she was in earnest.

"How long?" Emma looked up at him through her red-ringed eyes and tears began to well up in them once again.

"Ever since Elizabeth arrived. I tried to hide my feelings, even from myself, but I can't do it anymore. But what can I do now? He sees me as nothing but a silly child or, even worse, just an old friend." Darcy could tell that Emma was very near tears again. Desperately searching for a way to help her, an idea suddenly appeared.

"My cousin, Fitzwilliam is a good friend of Mr. Knightley's. Perhaps he could help. He could inquire for Mr. Knightley's feelings for you and help change them if we must. In that way, we would solve both our problems." Emma's eyes had now dried and she was very interested in Darcy's idea.

"It would solve both our problems?"

"Yes," Darcy said, growing more excited by the minute. "If Mr. Knightley fell in love with you, he would not marry Elizabeth. I would be there to comfort her, while you get you happy ending." Emma turned her eyes back to the path in silent contemplation.

"The same could be said for Elizabeth. If she fell in love with you, then she would not marry Knightley. And he would be free. Even if I never have him as more than a friend, it is better than losing him forever." Darcy nodded in understanding.

"We work together then?" Emma stuck out her hand for him to shake. With a light chuckle Darcy took it. Once he released her hand, he put an arm around her shoulder like he was wont to do with his sister. He thought of Emma in much the same way.

* * *

Elizabeth, who had decided to take a walk after answering her correspondence, strolled out into the sunshine in a very pleasant mood. She walked for some time, still in awe of the beauty of the park. It was not until she heard a chuckle that she realized that she was no longer alone.

After spotting the couple sitting on the bench, Elizabeth had thought to continue walking, but upon recognizing Darcy, she dashed behind a bush careful not to be seen. From her vantage point, she finally distinguished the other person. It was Emma.

Elizabeth restrained the gasp she fell rise to her throat as Darcy put an arm around Emma. Emma just sat and allowed him the liberty. Then they rose, Darcy kissing her hand before saying his goodbye. Elizabeth was just close enough to hear them.

"Good night Emma." Emma smiled at him in a way that chilled Elizabeth.

"You will come tomorrow won't you Darcy?" This sentence caused Elizabeth to feel a strong sense of disappointment and a strange feeling of rage towards Emma. Elizabeth decided that the rage was simply her anger that Emma would hurt her old friend by accepting Darcy's attentions. The informality of both stung as well. It seemed that things had progressed far faster than she would have thought possible.

"Don't worry," Darcy said taking both Emma's hands in his. "With us working together he stands no chance. One way or another, I won't rest until we both get the happy ending we've been waiting for." Emma smiled brilliantly at him, pleased by the speech. Elizabeth was not pleased. She could think of only one meaning for it. Darcy was going to ask Mr. Woodhouse's permission to marry Emma!


	10. An Offer

Elizabeth has stayed with Emma about 2 weeks. He stay will be several months as opposed to her 5 weeks in Kent. Since Highbury is so far away and she is not only visiting Emma, but also Charlotte, she is given more time.

* * *

Elizabeth hurried back to the house, wanting to be there before Emma. She did not want her friend to have any suspicions that she knew of Darcy and Emma's plan. Being a better walker than Emma and in much more of a hurry, Elizabeth easily made it back first and was informed that Mr. Knightley was waiting on her. In her confused, anxious and worried state, she did not even bother to change before seeing him.

"Mr. Knightley!" The gentleman had stood to give her a formal greeting, but his astonishment momentarily overpowered him.

"Miss Bennet, what is the matter?" He rushed to her side and helped her into a chair. Elizabeth swallowed, searching for her lost composure. Her breath was ragged as she had nearly run the whole way, and her mind was still clouded by what she had witnessed.

Her first attempt at speaking resulted in only a bunch of slurred syllables that could not be made out. A second endeavor was more rewarding.

"Mr. Darcy has proposed to Emma," Her words were still rushed, but Knightley could at least understand them this time. Not that he was very pleased that.

"Miss Bennet, calm down. Tell me exactly what happened." Taking several more deep breaths, Elizabeth regained her breath and her sense.

"I took a walk and happened upon Mr. Darcy and Emma. First Mr. Darcy had his arm around Emma, and then he kissed her hand once they stood. When they said goodbye to each other, he called her by her Christian name and she called him just 'Darcy'. Then he told her that she shouldn't worry because he would convince her father to let them marry." Knightley stood and began to pace the room in obvious agitation. Finally he sighed and collapsed into his chair.

"I suppose if that is the case, we must just let them do what they please." Elizabeth looked at Knightley in astonishment. Did he really mean that he was going to let Darcy and Emma marry?

"Couldn't you go to her father and convince him…" Knightley cut her off in a depressed tone.

"I could, but I will not. I can't do that to Emma. If she is happy with him, then I will attempt to come to terms with it and wish them both very happy." Elizabeth remained in awe of his being so selfless. Knightley had turned away from her and she could not see the incapacitating pain that filled his face.

"Come," he said, breaking the long silence, "let us go take a walk. I don't feel up to meeting Emma today." Elizabeth could not but agree and they strolled the walks around Hartfield, unconsciously avoiding the bench where Elizabeth had discovered the couple and the hill where Knightley had felt his first stab of jealousy.

During this time, there was a long period of silence which allowed both to dwell on their thoughts. Elizabeth was still wondering at the strange feeling which had yet to leave her since seeing Darcy kiss Emma's hand. It was a horrible feeling as it caused her to posses unpleasant thoughts towards Emma, yet, no matter how hard she tried, she could not turn the anger towards Darcy.

Knightley's thoughts, unlike Elizabeth's, centered in the future. He was imagining the wedding that would take place between Emma and Darcy and then the aftermath. The time when she must leave and go to Derbyshire; leaving him all alone. Elizabeth would return to Hartfordshire and he would be alone. And after all these years he had considered himself alone and thought that being alone was no great evil, it hit him with a stronger force than he ever thought possible. Contrary to all he had ever thought, being alone was a very great evil indeed.

"Elizabeth, I was wondering…" here he paused, steeling himself to say what he must. "If Emma and Mr. Darcy should marry, would you accept my hand in marriage?" Elizabeth blinked, doubted and struggled in vain to form words. It was a full three minutes before she could reply.

"I don't understand."

"Your father's estate is entailed and you have only five sisters. If your father should die, you know that your situation would be dire. I offer to you not as a lover, but a friend. If Emma marries Darcy and you return to Hartfordshire, I shall be alone. Well and truly alone. This way also, neither of us will have the pain of seeing you bound to a man you cannot like or respect."

"I suppose you also considered that with two very dear friends in the area, she might visit more often." Knightley smirked at her, finally breaking his serious mien.

"I admit the idea has crossed my mind." Elizabeth looked at his proposal in a new light. It was the least romantic proposal of the two she had received, yet infinitely preferable to her first. But was that enough? With Emma and Darcy so likely to marry, saying yes was liable to lead to her marrying Knightley.

But the disappointment she knew her friend would feel, should she say no, was enough to convince her not to refuse.

"I'll think about it." Knightley let out a sigh of relief. "But for now I suggest that we keep working to change Emma's opinion of you. Perhaps your suggestion won't be necessary." Knightley smiled brilliantly at her and once again felt how blessed he was to have a friend like Elizabeth.

* * *

Ooh, the plot thickens. I do know how I'm going to resolve this, but for now, the more misunderstandings I can work in, the better. =)


	11. The Party

You wouldn't believe the amount of times in this chapter I've wanted to yell at the characters to open their eyes and see the obvious truth (which is kinda pathetic considering I'm the writer). Anyways, hope you enjoy.

* * *

The next two days passed with few notable events. Elizabeth felt a little ill at ease around Emma, as the topic of marriage hung over them in a great taboo, but she could not speak of it as she was not supposed to know of it in the first place. Knightley had avoided the house since his conference with Elizabeth, worried that he should meet Emma. Darcy, who had never been a common visitor at Hartfield, too stayed away.

After these two uneventful days, a party was to be held at Hartfield. Among those invited were the Westons, Collinses, Mr. Darcy, Colonel Fitzwilliam, Mr. Knightley and Mr. Elton. Lady Catherine and her daughter were also invited, though it was more out of courtesy than any desire to see them. There was a general feeling of relief when their invitation was declined.

The first to arrive, much to both Emma and Elizabeth's surprise, was Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam. Emma had been expecting Knightley, who was usually the first to come, so she was riddled with disappointment. Darcy had planned to take advantage of being early by talking with Elizabeth, but his cousin beat him to it.

"Good evening, Miss Bennet." The lady smiled at him.

"Good evening, Colonel Fitzwilliam. I trust you are feeling well."

"I am," he replied with a smile. The rest of their conversation was postponed by the arrival of the Westons. Elizabeth had yet to meet them and Emma came over to take her away from the colonel. Knightley and the Collinses arrived at the same time again preventing the continuation of the conversation.

Colonel Fitzwilliam met Knightley at the door and led him away for a somewhat private conversation. Knightley was pleased with this, as it allowed him to stay away from Emma and Darcy, at least for the time being. Pleasantries were exchanged, but being good friends, Knightley could tell that there was a more important matter which Fitzwilliam wished to discuss.

"What is it that you wanted to talk to me about, Fitzwilliam?" The colonel shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"Actually I wanted to know how you feel about Miss Woodhouse." Knightley's insides immediately chilled. Were his feelings that obvious? He was tempted to tell Fitzwilliam about his growing attraction. The words flashed over the tip of his tongue, but on his remembering that Fitzwilliam was Darcy's cousin he checked them.

"I'm afraid I don't understand what you mean." Knightley paused, but after realizing how defensive and out of character he sounded he continued on, shaking his head minutely. "Emma is an old friend of course, but why do I feel as though you are implying something else?" Fitzwilliam was excessively nervous at this point. He was at a loss to come up with anything to say in reply.

"I didn't mean… I was just saying… Well, Darcy asked me to—." Fitzwilliam cut himself off but he was too late. Knightley's expression told him that he had heard enough. Colonel Fitzwilliam stood up abruptly and walked away, afraid he might say something else he would regret.

Meanwhile, Elizabeth was in conversation with Darcy. She had been utterly startled when the gentleman had walked up to her, as she could easily see that Emma was alone at the time, and she wondered why he would ignore his fiancée. Still, she couldn't help but feel a little flattered that he would come so purposely to talk with her.

"Miss Elizabeth." He gave her a low bow. She responded with a curtsy though she was still quite flustered.

"Mr. Darcy." He waved an arm toward the couch which was vacant. With a small nod of approval she sat down. Darcy smiled widely and sat beside her, perhaps a little too close.

"I trust you are enjoying yourself." Elizabeth was struck again by Darcy's newfound civility. Why was it suddenly appearing now in Highbury when in Hertfordshire he seemed not to care what people thought of him.

"It has been enjoyable so far. I have met a great deal of Emma's friends." Again Darcy smiled at her.

"Yes, she introduced me to them as well." Darcy laughed lightly. Elizabeth forced a chuckle but she wasn't really amused. She disliked the frequent references to Emma and Darcy's _relationship._ Even in her mind she couldn't bring herself to call it anything else.

Across the room, Knightley watched the pair feeling very ill at ease. He felt that Darcy was sitting a little _too_ close to Elizabeth, especially in light of his engagement to Emma. Watching the interactions gave Knightley another reason to dislike Darcy, though he hardly needed more. But, anger at Darcy was not the only thought in his mind. He was also concerned for his friend.

Catching a glimpse of the piano out of the corner of his eye, he thought of the perfect excuse to get her away from Darcy. He walked up to them and bowed politely, after which he completely ignored Darcy.

"Perhaps you would favor us with a song, Eliz—Miss Bennet?" The very near use of her Christian name caused Darcy's head to snap up. His eyes narrowed as he observed Knightley. He was trying very hard to control any negative thoughts about the man, for Emma's sake.

Darcy turned his eyes back to Elizabeth and silently pleaded with her to refuse Knightley and to stay with him. His eyes expressed all that he felt and exposed the whole of him, all the way to his heart. If she had bothered to look at him, things might have turned out differently. But she didn't. Instead she smiled at Knightley and accepted his hand to help her up. Even as she walked to the piano with Knightley, she didn't look back.

Alone on the couch Darcy sat and stared into nothingness. He listened to Elizabeth's performance with a dejected spirit. So many times she had broken his heart, yet each time he would mend it with thoughts of her. But, being trapped in this vicious cycle, Darcy suddenly wondered whether it would be better just to live with the current dull ache, than to have his heart broken afresh time and time again. Perhaps it was simply time to move on.

* * *

NO Darcy! Well at least I didn't make him cry in public and embarrass himself. =)

There is still more of the party, but that will have to wait for now.


	12. The Party Continued

Emma succeeded Elizabeth at the piano so, after leading Elizabeth to a vacant seat—one preferably far away from Darcy—Knightley sat nearby and stared with fixed admiration at Emma. Sadly only Elizabeth noticed his preoccupation. Even she was not aware of it long, as Colonel Fitzwilliam came over to her side to continue their long overdue conversation.

After walking up to her, the colonel noticed Knightley on her other side, and quickly looked away. He chose to sit on the side farthest away from Knightley.

"Miss Bennet, you are well I hope." He spoke in a hushed tone, careful not to attract the attention of anyone nearby.

"Prodigiously, thank you." Fitzwilliam had allowed his eyes to wander for a second and somehow they seemed to land on Emma. A sudden light flashed on in his mind. Perhaps Elizabeth, being Knightley's friend, had a better insight to his feelings.

"Pray, Miss Elizabeth, excuse the question, but I wondered if you might have know the whole of Kngihtley's relationship with Miss Woodhouse." The lady felt the same impulse to tell Fitzwilliam the truth, but glancing out of the corner of her eye at Knightley, she managed to check it just in time. In an effort to buy more time to think out a response, she gave a teasing reply.

"I would excuse a question, but you have failed to ask me one." Fitzwilliam chuckled, not realizing that, underneath her charming smile, Elizabeth's mind was turning furiously.

"Well then, pray, let me rephrase it. Do you know of Knightley's feelings for Miss Woodhouse?" After taking a few seconds to insure her composure, Elizabeth managed to answer with her usual smile on her face.

"I would think that everyone knows of his feelings for Emma, whether friend or not. They are old friends, and have been such since before Emma could remember." Fitzwilliam put up a thoughtful look, but what Elizabeth didn't know, was that this look was designed to hide the disappointment he felt on her answer.

Knightley's answer he had felt to be a little off, which gave him leave to hope, but Colonel Fitzwilliam interpreted Elizabeth's answer as true. He knew that he must relate that to Emma and Darcy and that was not a pleasant thought.

* * *

After she had finished playing, Emma decided to seek out Knightley. Seeing him would be awkward for her, but she knew the pain of separation to be much greater. She had hardly seen him the whole of the week and, as it was not common for even a day to go by without his company, Emma was feeling quite bereft.

It took a full minute of searching to find Mr. Knightley. Emma was beginning to wonder if he was avoiding her, but she could think of no reason for him to do so, unless he had somehow learned of her feelings for him. In the end she assumed that it was simply coincidence and not design that attributed to her inability to find him.

When she finally did spot him, he had his back towards her, looking at something with great disapproval. Before she declared her presence, Emma glanced at the objects of his interest. She was surprised, and not very well pleased, to see that his condemnation was aimed completely at Darcy, who was again making an attempt with Elizabeth. Clearing her throat quietly, Emma decided to make an endeavor at speaking with him.

"Mr. Knightley." The gentleman seemed to freeze after she spoke, but he relaxed again upon turning around. Emma decided that she had just startled him.

"Hello Emma." He smiled at her, but it was forced. She was too focused on retaining her own composure to notice.

They sat down in vacant seats and tried several topics with little success. It wasn't until Emma opened the subject of which they were both least desirous of discussing that the conversation was able to move in any direction.

"What do you think of Elizabeth? I haven't gotten a chance to ask you yet."

"I have to say I was most pleasantly surprised. She is lively and engaging, but also sensible and smart. I have enjoyed this chance to become acquainted with her." It took a great deal of self-control on Emma's part to resist the frown that tried to emerge in response to this answer. It was a bit too warm for her taste.

"Yes, I am proud to call her a friend." Here she paused for a second, but seeing the signs that this was going to fail, like the other topics preceding it, Emma continued. "Has she told you when she is leaving?"

"No, I don't believe that has every come up. When _is_ she returning home?" Being reminded that Elizabeth was to go away could only lower his spirits. Emma had been replacing his place in her life with Darcy so, once Elizabeth left, he would be alone.

"She was to stay with us two and a half months."

"Oh." The sadness in his tone was audible to even Emma in this single syllable.

"But perhaps she might be induced with staying with us longer." They fell silent again, each looking everywhere but at their companion. It was Knightley who finally broke the silence.

"Do you know how long Mr. Darcy is staying?" Emma could both see the jealousy in his eyes and hear it in his tone.

"I believe he will be staying as long as Elizabeth." This statement meant different things to each. To Knightley, it simply meant he was staying two and a half months. To Emma, it meant that Darcy was staying as long as Elizabeth, whether she departed early or postponed it.

"I see." The answer was very short. Emma examined him for a second before replying.

"You don't like him." She did not ask it, nor did she ask his reason for the feeling. She didn't need to.

"I don't trust him." Knightley stood as he said this. Emma thought he was going to walk away without another word, but he turned to face her and his eyes softened slightly. "Be careful, Emma." This time he did walk away, leaving Emma feeling suddenly warm.


	13. And This is Your Opinion of Me?

Yay! I updated. With two of the most revered couples in fictional history battling for time in this story, I'm trying to switch back and forth every other chapter. =)

* * *

On the other side of the room from Emma and Knightley, Darcy was making another attempt at speaking with Elizabeth. His last attempt had only lasted a few minutes, and this time he was hoping for something a bit more substantial.

He spoke her name, and indicated an open seat. Like last time, she sat both confused and a little flattered by his persistence in seeking out her company. There was only one motive she could think for this and that was that he was just becoming better acquainted with her at the request of his fiancée.

He asked civilly after her health and her pleasure with Highbury and she responded politely, though her dislike of the man was still about the same as it had been upon leaving Hertfordshire. He was set to marry a very good friend of hers and it would not do to offend him.

"Are all your family well?" Elizabeth replied that they were, but when a sudden thought crossed her mind, she continued.

"In the matter of health they are all well, but I am afraid that my eldest sister is deeply pained by the departure of Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst." Darcy began a nod, but he suddenly paused.

"Has she not seen them in London?" Darcy didn't realize how much his words had given away, but Elizabeth missed nothing.

"She wrote to Miss Bingley and apologized, but she feared meeting Mr. Bingley. Miss Bingley had informed him of Jane's being in town, but not her current address. Jane thought that he might wait in the house for her to pay her respects to Miss Bingley. She felt it would be too awkward to see him again." Unbeknown to either of the participants in this conversation, it was at this very moment that the two pairs of eyes—belonging to Knightley and Emma—which had been observing this exchange, turned away and took no more note of them.

"Your sister needn't have worried. Bingley would not wait for her; indeed he has no idea of her being in London at all." Still Darcy was unaware he was digging himself deeper and deeper into a hole. Gone was Elizabeth's conviction to be polite or civil. This man had not only done very terrible things to Wickham, but he was also part of the scheme that had brought about so much misery for Jane.

"I wonder how he could not if you and his sisters know of it." Elizabeth's eyes flashed dangerously. Darcy opened his mouth to reply, but seeing Elizabeth's darkened countenance, he was finally sensible of the direction this conversation was rapidly moving. Things were _not_ going as planned.

Elizabeth stood to leave; quite ready to be out of his presence, but he would not let her go. Parting terms such as these were not the best, and he felt that this desperately needed to be resolved if he wished to make any headway.

"Please do not go, Miss Bennet." He pleaded with her. "I feel that we still have much to talk about."

"That may very well be," she replied, turning to look at him with cold eyes, "but I have no further wish to speak to you tonight." Again she made to leave, but again he called after.

"Will you not even give me a chance to explain my actions?" Such a plea was designed to play on her morals, and it did its job well. Elizabeth paused mid-step and bowed her head, caught in a struggle between her immense dislike of the man and her moral duty as a Christian. It was a very close fight, but with a resigned sigh she turned around once more.

"If you feel you can explain your actions, I will allow you the leave to do so, but not here. We are already attracting too much attention." She walked away again, but this time, just before she was lost among the crowd, she looked back to see if he was following. He could hardly do otherwise. He would have followed her anywhere.

The sound of talking began to fade into a pleasant murmur as she led them to another part of the house. Upon reaching a set of doors, she paused and pulled them open. Darcy, who had rarely been to Hartfield and never farther than the sitting room, looked about him with awe. The room she had open was the library. It was well stocked, (even in comparison to his own), and could not be described as anything other than beautiful.

Still Darcy could give the room no more than a sweeping glance before his eyes once again landed on Elizabeth, and, once they landed on her, they did not want to move off again.

"Miss Bennet, have I done something to offend you?" He chose to speak first as she did not seemed inclined to.

"A great many things, but I do not think either of us would enjoy my listing them." Her tone was cold again, not like what he expected. Even in Hertfordshire she always seemed more or less civil, even when she teased him.

"I would not have you think ill of me."

"I have every reason in the world to think ill of you! Not ten minutes ago, you confessed to being the means, if not principle design, of separating your friend from my sister." Darcy changed color at such a declaration, but any attempt he wished to make to explain his actions was lost among Elizabeth's continued tirade. "Dare you even attempt to deny it? Even if you did not convince him to leave Netherfield, you are responsible for continuing to conceal her presence in London from your _friend_."

"I have no wish to deny it."

"And I thought disguise of every sort was your abhorrence." This was the remark that finally broke through Darcy's resolve. He had been thinking much the same thing, and it still bothered him. Was it not enough for him to be tormented by his own conscious? Must she too make him doubt himself?

Elizabeth shook her head in a visible effort to calm herself. It did not work. Instead, she found herself blurting out the next words without giving them any thought. "It is not only in this matter that my dislike of you is founded. Long ago, my dislike of you was decided when I heard Mr. Wickham's tale of your dealings with him. Again I dare you to deny it." Wickham! Would that man ever cease encroaching on his life and attacking what was most dear to him?

"You take an eager interest in that gentleman's concerns." It was bad enough that Knightley was paying addresses to her, but could she also have an attraction to Wickham? _Oh god. _Was his life not bad enough already?

"Who that knows of his misfortunes can help taking an interest in him."

"His misfortunes! Yes, his misfortunes have been great indeed."

"And of your infliction." By now both of their voices had risen in volume substantially, but the thick walls of the library kept the argument safe from the ears of the party. "You have reduced him to his present state of poverty. You have withheld advantages which you knew where designed for him. All this you have done! yet you can treat the mention of his misfortune with contempt and ridicule."

"And this is your opinion of me? My faults by this calculation are heavy indeed. But perhaps if you were to examine them more closely, you would see that you have merely sketched my character from the portraits of others and not from your own observation." As he said the last, his voice sunk in volume but increased in venom.

"You are mistake, Mr. Darcy. Mr. Wickham's story merely confirmed the picture which I had already painted. From the earliest point of our acquaintance I have been fully impressed with your arrogance, your conceit and your selfish distain for the feelings of others!" Darcy stood in a state of shock, his mouth hanging slightly open.

Elizabeth took advantage of his momentary loss for words, and rushed out of the room. Through the halls she ran in an effort to escape both the man himself and the memories of what had occurred. She reached her room and fell onto the bed with a sob.

She had been justified in everything she had said, she said nothing of which she wished to revoke and she hated the man with all the passion she could muster. In these thoughts she could find no logical explanation for her tears, but even that could not stop her from shedding them.

* * *

There is still more to the party. Originally it was just a minor plot point and wasn't supposed to affect the characters much. Well, that was _my_ plan, but the story and my muse didn't agree. They do things like this just to spite me.


	14. A Letter?

**Wow, it's been a while since my last update. Sorry. After winter break I was busy with catching up in my classes and now, as the semester is ending, due dates and finals are creeping ever nearer. So many things to study for, so little time. Anyway, don't expect another update until February at the earliest. **

* * *

Back at the party, few noticed the continued absence of either Darcy or Elizabeth, and those who did made no connection between them. The party was large enough that there was always someone to talk to and without much free time to think, both Darcy and Elizabeth were out of sight and out of mind.

This was a good thing for the two of them, as Elizabeth stayed upstairs in her room—and was soon asleep without a thought of the party which was still in progress—and Darcy sat in the library, shocked. He did not return until it was an acceptable time for him to leave.

Emma and Knightley's conversation had ended by this point and Emma was still sitting on the couch trying in vain to understand Mr. Knightley's parting comment. Did he feel that she should be wary for Elizabeth's sake, as her friend? Or was he implying that he believed Darcy capable of making advances on her while still seeking Elizabeth?

Emma let out a quiet sigh and ran over the possibilities again. She hated how they all seemed to have Elizabeth in them. Since Emma's friend had arrived, it felt to Emma like she was being replaced. Mr. Knightley still came to Hartfield often, but he spoke more often to Elizabeth and sometimes called when he knew Emma to be out.

Desperate to be distracted from these thoughts, Emma looked up and surveyed the room quickly. Smiling, she saw Harriet Smith, a friendly acquaintance of hers, glancing her way. Emma silently gestured to the open spot next to her and Harriet needed no further invitation.

"Miss Woodhouse, I cannot thank you enough for inviting me tonight." Emma assured her that her thanks were unnecessary. "You will never believe what happened just yesterday." Harriet gushed, lowering her voice to a more conspiratorial tone. "Do you know Robert Martin?" Emma shook her head in response and leaned closer, interested. "He's a farmer, which I know is not so high bred as some, but he is incredibly handsome and considerate, _and_," she added bouncing up and down in her seat, "he asked me to _marry him!_" Emma looked at Harriet for a moment with neither an expression of excitement or disappointment. She just looked. Harriet's happiness died a little and she worriedly asked what was wrong.

"Harriet," Emma said seriously, "do you love him?" Harriet's brow furrowed in confusion.

"Of course. Why else would I marry him?" The gaiety of their conversation had died and its volume fell even more.

"It is not merely infatuation or friendship?"

"No, I love him and his family!" Her tone was bordering on defensive now. Emma raised a hand to stall the outburst.

"I do not mean to offend; I just want to be sure you will be happy. Until one has felt love, they cannot imagine what it feels like." Harriet calmed.

"It is love," she stated simply. Emma smiled in relief.

"Then I wish you every happiness." They went on to discuss the wedding plans. Harriet, having no family of her own, chose instead to invite her friends and Emma was counted among them. Through Emma, Elizabeth, Mr. Knightley and Mr. Darcy were all added to the list as well. Being Mr. Darcy's cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam too was to be invited. As were Lady Catherine and her daughter, for it would be an insult to invite the lady's guests but not her.

Thus, in this manner, nearly everyone in the general vicinity of Highbury was issued an invitation. Thankfully, not all of them would choose to come. The wedding date was in a week.

The party ended with very few notable events beyond what was already related. As the hour grew later, guests slowly began to leave. Emma was surprised to see Darcy among the first to leave. She wanted to ask him how his conversations with Elizabeth went, but she only saw him as he was exiting the door, nearly dragging his cousin behind him.

* * *

The next morning, Emma sat at the breakfast table all alone. Her father had been exhausted by the party, she knew, and was not likely to be up, but Elizabeth should have been. Emma, having failed to get the information out of Darcy, had wanted to ask Elizabeth about the evening, but it seemed that was not to be. Emma waited for her friend for some time, but she never emerged.

When Emma could wait no longer, she quitted the house and walked to a bench somewhere between Rosings and Hartfield. Through an unspoken agreement, that bench had become the meeting place for Darcy and Emma. Somehow she just sensed that he would be there.

Emma found that her instincts were correct as she approached and saw Darcy on the bench, leaning over with his elbows on his knees and twirling a piece of paper between his fingers. A smile rose to her face as she called out a greeting. Darcy looked up with tired, bloodshot eyes and then lowered his eyes back to his hands without a word. Emma's smile slowly fell from her face, a concerned frown replacing it.

She hesitated slightly as she reached him, but decided to sit down beside him. Darcy made no move to acknowledge her presence. His hands were still fidgeting with the envelope between them. Emma quietly put her hand on his to still them. Darcy turned his face away and stared unseeingly out at the trees. Emma was now excessively worried, this was not like Darcy. That he was often quiet was true, but usually he was stoic in silence, but now he had a general air of sadness around him.

"What happened?" Darcy tensed slightly and turned his face toward her finally. He simply sighed and turned his eyes forward again. Emma was prepared to repeat her question because she did not believe that he was going to answer. As she drew a breath to ask again, he spoke, his eyes still averted from her.

"She hates me." Emma started and she looked over at him with a confused expression. Quickly, however, the confusion melted away and was replaced with understanding. There was only one person whose opinion could damage this man so much.

"What did she say to you?" Darcy extracted a hand from under hers and ran it through his hair.

"That I am arrogant, conceited and that I have a selfish distain for the feelings of others." Emma's eyes widened and she gasped softly. She pulled her hand back from on top of his.

"What did you say to her?"

"Many things I wish I hadn't. I always seem to say the wrong thing to her. It was foolish to believe that she could ever harbor feelings for me. Now there is nothing left to do, but bow out gracefully. I will leave her to her life and never intrude with my disagreeable presence." Darcy's tone was bitter. Emma pulled back from him slightly.

"So, you will just leave without offering her an explanation? At the first bump in the road you turn and flee, claiming the road impassible?" She demanded of him in a sharp tone. He said nothing and she continued in a softer tone. "Can you really leave her without everyday to come cursing yourself for being weak? If you can leave her than you obviously aren't good enough for her." Emma moved to stand, but Darcy spoke and she paused to hear him.

"I wrote her a letter to explain all." Darcy held up the envelope in his hand. Emma snatched it from him.

"You can't give her this." Emma said firmly. "Even disregarding the impropriety of giving a letter to a woman completely unrelated to you, you aren't acting yourself and though the contents of this letter may be sound, I fear the wording is not. This letter, though designed to smooth away some of her hatred, may only fan the flame more. You must tell her the contents yourself." Emma tore the letter in half and put the pieces into her dress pocket. "You may call in a few hours." Emma stood and walked away, leaving Darcy staring at her in a shocked silence, still trying to understand where exactly his plan of avoiding Elizabeth went wrong.


	15. Why Do You Hate Him?

**Guess what? It's still January! I updated earlier than promised. I had the day off from school cuz the semester's over, so I thought I'd do some writing. **

**Finals are over! I dominated the history one (first one done and highest grade in the class) and pulled out at least a high B on all the rest. =) Studying does pay off after all.**

* * *

It wasn't until nearly an hour after Emma returned from her conversation with Darcy that Elizabeth finally emerged from her room. Surprisingly, she did not look well rested, even after the greater than usual time she spent in her bed. Emma looked concernedly up from the sketch she had been working on, and motioned for Elizabeth to come and sit on the sofa. Tiredly, Elizabeth acquiesced and sat next to Emma. Emma put her sketch aside and turned to face her friend.

"You don't look well, Elizabeth, and you were in your room for later than normal. What is the matter?" Emma placed the same hand she had used to calm Darcy on Elizabeth's hand. Like Darcy, Elizabeth looked away and took a while in answering.

"I spoke with Mr. Darcy last night." Emma had expected this to be the cause for Elizabeth's distress, but she nodded and pretended as though it was news to her.

"I did see you speak with him, but it looked as though all was going well. I thought that perhaps you had formed at least a civil relationship." Elizabeth scoffed loudly and gave a forced smile.

"I do not see how a civil relationship is possible with such a man." Her voice lost the tired tone it had earlier held and now sounded harsh and bitter.

"Why do you hate him so? What has he done to you?" Emma asked exasperated. She had been told how much Elizabeth hated Darcy, but she knew little of the cause.

"He is arrogant and snobbish, thinking himself above the company. But what is worse, he has been cruel and heartless to his boyhood friend, casting him away for jealous reasons." Emma could understand the first part, knowing Darcy to be shy and not likely to talk to those he did not know well. Reserve was easy to mistake for pride. But, cruelty? No, Emma did not think Darcy capable of that.

"Cruel and heartless to a boyhood friend?" Emma questioned. Elizabeth nodded and proceeded to relate the tale Wickham had spun for her. The furrow in Emma's brow grew ever deeper as Elizabeth spoke. While Elizabeth fully believed that every word she said was true, Emma didn't believe _any_ of it.

"Have you asked Mr. Darcy for his side of the story?" Elizabeth shook her head. "How then do you know that all those facts are not lies?"

"Everything in his manner proved that his words were true. His story has names; facts. I do not see how you could doubt him."

"Can you prove his story true? No. If this is your only reason for hating Mr. Darcy perhaps you should reevaluate your opinion of him." Elizabeth shook her head again.

"That is not my only reason for despising Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth stated. "I have many reasons to hate him. He had the audacity to confess to being the means of separating my sister from his _friend_ and, not only did he confess, he _congratulated _himself." Emma had to gasp at this. In Elizabeth's other accusation, there was room for error, but in this Emma could find no way to save Darcy.

"He said that he congratulated himself?" It was less of a question and more of an exclamation. Darcy had told her that he always said the wrong thing to Elizabeth, but Emma could have never imagined it to be so bad.

"Perhaps not in so many words, but it was obvious in his eyes. There was no remorse for his actions or for the pain he had caused both my sister and Mr. Bingley."

"Could it have been that he thought himself in the right, that he actually thought he was doing what was best for all involved?" Elizabeth exploded up from her seat, tearing loose from Emma's hand. She angrily paced and jerked her hand away from Emma's when Emma tried to calm her.

"How could he think that," she demanded. Emma didn't know what to say, so she said nothing. She simply waited calmly for Elizabeth to relax and return to her seat. This did not happen for some minutes. Finally, once Elizabeth was seated once more, Emma tried again.

"Your abhorrence of Mr. Darcy did not start tonight with learning of his intervention between you sister and this, Mr. Bingley. When did it start? After hearing Mr. Wickham's tale?" Elizabeth shook her head. "After seeing him proud and aloof at the assembly ball?" This time Elizabeth hesitated, but she shook her head once more. "When _did_ it start?" Elizabeth quietly told Emma of Darcy's insult towards her person.

"I do not like to think of myself as a vain person, but I will admit his words affected me more than I let on. Perhaps it was because I was comparing him to his friend, who is excessively amiable, or it may have been my own pride. He is a handsome man and I know that I am not nearly as pretty as Jane, but such a direct insult was more than I could bear." Emma nodded understandingly during most of the speech, but at the end she began to shake her head.

"You are beautiful; do not let anyone _ever_ make you think otherwise." Elizabeth smiled at Emma and gave her a hug.

"Thank you." They pulled apart and Emma grabbed Elizabeth's hands and held them in both of hers.

"Please try to like Mr. Darcy. At least give him a chance to explain. He may be proud, but perhaps you are prejudiced. Please, Lizzy." Elizabeth nodded slowly and gave Emma a weak smile.

"I will try, for you." Emma smiled brilliantly at Elizabeth, but at the back of her mind Emma wondered how she could tell Elizabeth that she would be called upon to act on this promise much sooner than she expected. After all, Darcy should be calling in only couple hours. Was it better to prepare Elizabeth, or to surprise her?

Emma turned the subject to Elizabeth's sisters. She was not going to give Elizabeth any way to escape from this meeting. One way or another Emma would make sure Elizabeth and Darcy came to understanding.

* * *

**Random fun fact about me: Both **_**abhorrence **_**and **_**perhaps**_** are on my top ten favorite words list. =)**


	16. Surprises

Darcy walked up the path to Hartfield uncertainly, every instinct telling him to run. After Emma had left him, he had thought to write another letter, but he knew it would meet the same end as the first. The idea of leaving without offering an explanation had never even been entertained in his thoughts. Emma was right; he had been a fool to think he could leave Elizabeth.

Darcy stood at the door awkwardly for several minutes, seriously considering turning back. Finally he managed to secure enough resolve to enter. It was strange that, within his feeling of reluctance, there too resided an almost giddy excitement. He would see Elizabeth again and have a chance to answer her accusations. And, could he hope, remove some of her distain of him? It was a possibility.

Darcy had managed to gather enough courage to enter the room he knew Elizabeth to be calmly. He stepped over the threshold and his eyes immediately were caught on Elizabeth. Looking at her it took only a few seconds for his composure to drain away. Suddenly all he wanted to do was to leave—run away—and escape the pain. It was exactly what Emma had warned him against.

For her part, Elizabeth was very startled to see Darcy enter the room. She _had _promised to be civil and hear him out, but she did not expect to be tested so soon. It was hardly an hour after she had made the promise.

"Good day, Mr. Darcy." Emma said giving him a curtsy. She had spoken somewhat louder than she would normally do, but it was necessary to shake her companions out of their fear-induced trance.

Darcy and Elizabeth both jumped and blushed at the same time before offering each other a proper greeting. Without pleasantries to fill the silence with, the room was once again filled with an awkward tension. Elizabeth was staring at the floor discomfited, while Darcy's eyes were glued to her face and could not look away. Emma cast her eyes heavenward and wondered if she was so much a fool around Mr. Knightley as Darcy was around Elizabeth.

"It is a very pleasant day," Emma declared at last, sending a significant look towards Darcy. He did not understand her meaning. "A very lovely day," she tried again. This time her hint was understood. Darcy took a step nearer Elizabeth.

"Miss Bennet, would you do me the honor of accompanying me around the garden?" Elizabeth looked up with almost panicked eyes and shot a desperate glance towards her friend. Emma just smiled and sat down on the sofa, taking up her sketch again.

"I will," Elizabeth agreed somewhat reluctantly.

They walked in silence for Darcy needed to compose himself and Elizabeth was at a loss for a subject. Neither would look at the other. It was a full ten minutes before any progress was made.

"Miss Bennet.…" Elizabeth counted slowly to five before looking up in acknowledgement of her name. Darcy abruptly lost himself in her eyes and could not remember what he had planned to say.

"Yes, Mr. Darcy?" Their gaze was still locked.

"I…," Darcy paused and tore his eyes away from hers, "I wanted to address the accusations you made against me last night." Elizabeth nodded and turned her head away again.

"I suspected as much."

"First I will say that, as to the matter of your sister and Mr. Bingley, I acted in a manner which I believed would benefit both. I believed your sister to be indifferent to him, and my observations were seconded by Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst's assurances. I have often seen Bingley in love before and did not suspect this to be much different, but it seems I misjudged his feelings, and perhaps your sister's as well. It was not my intent to hurt either." Elizabeth had mixed feelings on this matter. Of course, his presumption that her sister was indifferent angered her, but she could not help but recall that Charlotte had told her that Jane's affection might not be so obvious to those who did not know her.

"Indeed," Darcy continued, "there is but one part of this matter that I can find no merit in. That is in the concealment of your sister's being in town. I know it was beneath me and I cannot justify my having done it." Elizabeth was outraged, that was certain. She felt her sister's pain and knew Mr. Darcy to be the cause, yet his honesty softened the blow.

"What about Mr. Wickham?" Darcy could have cringed on hearing these words, but there was no accusation in them. If anything, Elizabeth sounded uncertain.

"I do not know what he has told you, but I will share the whole of our history if you like." Elizabeth declared that would not be necessary. Instead she told him Wickham's story and asked him to correct what he would.

"I must say that most everything he told you was true," Elizabeth stopped abruptly and looked at him with a look of immense incredulity.

"His story is true? Have you nothing to say in your defense?" It was strange that, before, such a statement from him would have caused her to smirk in triumph, but now she felt slightly disappointed.

"_But_," Darcy went on, stressing the word, "he has left out quite a few details which would show the story in a new light. For instance, it appears he neglected to inform you that in lieu of the living he requested three-thousand pounds, which I did pay him. He declared an intention to study the law, though I have my doubts he did so." They had begun walking again and Elizabeth was unnaturally quiet.

"He _requested_ the money in lieu of the living?" She asked in clarification.

"Indeed. I knew he was not suited for the church and was content to pay him instead." Darcy looked straight into her eyes to discern the emotion therein. He saw the expected shock and confusion, but there was also a terrifying doubt. She had misgivings about his story.

"This is not all he has done to earn my distain. I will now relate something which I would wish to forget. I trust that I may have your utmost silence in this matter." Elizabeth nodded. "Last summer, he met my sister at Ramsgate where, with the assistance of her companion, her convinced her both that he was in love with her and she with him; and to consent to an elopement. She was but fifteen; which must be her excuse." Elizabeth bit her lip and stared up into his face that was contorted in a dark expression. "It was merely chance that brought me to her a day before the intended elopement. She could not conceal the plan to a brother whom she looked up to almost as a father. You can imagine what I felt and how I acted. I could not publically expose him, for fear of my sister's reputation, but I did write to him, and he left the area immediately. His chief object was only my sister's fortune of thirty-thousand pounds, though the idea of its injuring me must have too added an inducement. Had he succeeded, his revenge would have been complete indeed." Darcy ended with a bitter tone and a dark countance. Elizabeth could have no doubts as to his sincerity as she saw flickers of sorrow and pain flash in his eyes.

"Oh dear," Elizabeth whispered.

"What?" Darcy turned to her quickly, hoping that she had believed his story.

"I could not have imagined that one man could be so very bad. How absolutely horrid!" Elizabeth was filled with shame; shame for having believed Wickham, and shame for accusing Darcy of something of which he could bear none of the blame. In truth, her opinion of Darcy was rapidly changing. Of the accusations she had leveled at him, he was mostly blameless and his character had seen such a dramatic change since Hertfordshire. He seemed to surprise her at every turn.

"How so?" Darcy asked, dragging her from her thoughts. "How do I surprise you?" She had not realized she had said the last aloud until he commented on it.

"In many ways, today especially. Your very coming to Hartfield today was a surprise and everything that followed as well."

"I had thought you would be expecting me." Darcy looked over at her questioningly. Elizabeth furrowed her brow and replied that she had no way of knowing of his coming. "Surly Emma told you." Elizabeth stopped walking abruptly and looked up at him.

"How did Emma know?" Darcy had stopped walking too, but he was several paces beyond her.

"She invited me today. She must have told you." Elizabeth looked down at the ground and away from his confused eyes. Her mind raced as she tried to process all the information. Emma had told him to come? Throughout their conversation, Emma had known that Mr. Darcy would come to explain himself in a matter of hours? Was that why Emma had made her promise to listen to Mr. Darcy? But why was it such a necessity for her to be civil to Mr. Darcy? Unless the wedding was to take place sooner than anyone could have thought. Was that it? Was Darcy's civility simply to please his beloved? Elizabeth could take the tumult of her thoughts no longer, especially with Mr. Darcy in attendance, so, she decided to do the only thing she could. Run.

"Thank you for troubling yourself by explaining these things to me." She dared not raise her eyes, frightened of what he might see in them. "Good day, sir," she said with the quickest of curtsies. Before his mind had fully understood what she meant to do, she was already running.

He wanted to call out to her; to make her come back to him, but it was too late. He knew she would not hear him. He stared long and hard at the place where she had stood, and because of this, he noticed the single spot of water on the otherwise dry ground. He knelt down to examine it more closely. There was only one thing it could be. Elizabeth had been crying.

* * *

**I know we haven't heard much from Knightley recently, but he'll pop up again in the next chapter. I am **_**planning **_**to stick in a Knightley/Emma moment in there too, but you never know what my muse will do.**

**Another random fact about me****: I can say the alphabet backwards in about three seconds. (Which is about the same speed I can say it the regular way.) =)**


	17. The Sketch

**Not an exceptionally long or good chapter, but hey, pretty quick update.**

**Since last chapter I cleared up quite a few misunderstandings, it only seems fit I make some more, right? =)**

* * *

Meanwhile, inside Hartfield, Emma lost herself in her sketching. She often wondered how the interview was going between Darcy and Elizabeth, but had no way of knowing, short of sneaking outside to eavesdrop on them. For now at least, she would be content to work on her sketch.

Mr. Knightley arrived at Hartfield about ten minutes after Elizabeth and Darcy had gone for their walk. Emma set aside her sketch immediately as he entered, and, after giving it a second glance, covered it with some needlework. Mr. Knightley smiled at Emma much as he had always done, and it felt as though the tense air that had surrounded them at the party had dissipated somewhat. Unfortunately the moment didn't last long.

"Where is Miss Bennet?" Emma hated how one of the first things he asked of her was about Elizabeth. Emma had always hoped for Elizabeth to be easy among her friends, but now, more than anything, Emma wished that Elizabeth and Mr. Knightley could not stand the sight of each other. It certainly would have been easier.

"She is out walking." Knightley nodded somewhat absentmindedly.

"Alone?" At this question Emma bit her lip and turned to look out the window. If she told Mr. Knightley that Elizabeth was walking with Darcy, would he be angry? Would he leave immediately to find Elizabeth? Emma hardly wanted to take such a chance, but she would not lie to her oldest and dearest friend.

"She is walking with Mr. Darcy." Emma saw a quick flash of emotion in Mr. Knightley's eyes but she could not make it out. Was it anger or perhaps jealousy?

"She had a fight with him at the party last night," Emma continued, feeling the need to explain. "She accused him of many offenses but did not give him leave to explain himself; nor am I inclined to think she would have, had it not been for my encouraging her." As she finished, the emotion was much stronger in Mr. Knightley's eyes. It looked to be a combination of both jealousy and anger, yet Emma also thought she saw a strange sorrow lurking there as well.

"I see." His tone was bitter, confirming all she had seen in his eyes.

Emma opened her mouth to ask what had upset him, when a flash of movement outside the window gave her a pause. It was Elizabeth who was running and appeared to be, from what Emma could see, crying.

"Elizabeth," Emma gasped out, her eyes still following her friends figure. Mr. Knightley stood hastily, his gaze frantically searching for Elizabeth. Emma rushed to the door without a parting word and looked for Elizabeth. In the few moments she was gone, Knightley gaze fell on the partially covered sketch. He had always thought Emma to have talent, but she didn't apply herself nearly enough. He crossed the room, carefully checking over his shoulder to insure she was not coming back.

The needlework had only covered about half the sketch as Emma had been too hasty in covering it. He had to bend his neck at somewhat of an awkward angle and squint to see the faint lines, but after a minute of study the scene was clear to him. It was a wedding. He could only see the groom, but it was enough. Mr. Darcy was drawn, though from memory as opposed to an actual sitting.

Knightley fingers itched to brush away the rest of the light fabric covering the drawing, but a strong feeling of disgust held him back. Who other than Emma could be standing next to Darcy? Knightley had no desire to see the blissful expression Emma had imagined for herself.

Light footsteps caused him to back quickly from the picture. He dropped heavily to the couch in what he hoped was a more casual position. As soon as Emma entered he would be obliged to rise anyway.

Emma returned with a look of concern dominating her face. She glanced up at him quickly and then away to the far wall.

"I could not find her. I don't think she wants to be found." Knightley nodded absently and an uncomfortable silence surrounded them. Knightley found himself all too often glancing at the poorly hidden sketch. He didn't know if he could take it any longer. He couldn't stand knowing that the woman he was so violently in love with was happily planning her marriage to another.

"We cannot simply let her alone. I will go. Excuse me." Emma made to protest, but as she turned finally to face him, he had already quit the room.

With nothing else to do, Emma picked up her drawing once again, wondering at a great many things. She wondered how Darcy's interview with Elizabeth could have gone so badly as to leave her in tears. Emma wondered at Mr. Knightley's more reserved behavior when she reentered the room and she wondered at how everything had gone wrong. With a small sigh, Emma returned to her drawing, putting the final touches on Elizabeth's expression. Suddenly Emma wondered if the picture she had created of a happy wedding was never to be any more than just that; a picture.

* * *

**Random Fact:**** My favorite number is e, (which is a mathematical constant like pi). I have the first thirteen terms memorized: 2.718281828459… (yes, I am a total math geek). I admit that I love it because when people ask me my favorite number and I say "e" they give me the strangest looks. ;)**


	18. The Only Man

**Another quick update! If I get a snowday tomorrow (which is actually rather likely believe it or not), I will write another chapter and post it then. Hope for snow. =)**

* * *

Mr. Knightley rushed from the house, keeping his senses alert for any sign of Elizabeth. Unlike Emma, Knighley focused more on searching for Elizabeth rather than wondering what could have reduced her to tears. His efforts were soon rewarded with the sounds of soft feminine sobs.

They came from just behind a hedge and Knightley hesitantly approached, unsure that his presence would be desired. As he rounded the hedge, he was met with the sight of Elizabeth slumped on a bench, quite obviously distressed. He did not announce his presence, but instead took one small step to her and another. On his third step a twig snapped under his foot causing a startled Elizabeth too look up at him with an expression of fear. The fear melted away to relief and the smallest bit of joy as her visitor revealed himself _not_ to be Mr. Darcy. If _that_ gentleman had come she would not have been able to reign in her feelings and have confessed all to him. A confession that could do nothing but ruin her friendship with Emma.

At her look, Knightley felt himself welcome to take the seat beside her. But, when he did so, there was a terrific rustling in the bushes around them. Both companions looked about them much alarmed, but in a minute all was silent again. They did not give the matter a second thought.

"What happened?" Knightley asked encouragingly. Elizabeth stared at the ground, a few tears still staining her cheeks.

"I… Mr. Darcy.… Oh God!" There was no sense to be made from Elizabeth's outburst. Knightley waited for her to calm down. Neither spoke for some time.

"I am a terrible person," Elizabeth cried out at last in self-depreciation, "I should not feel this way." Her sobs returned, making her entire body shake with their ferocity. Knightley did what he could to comfort her as he handed her his handkerchief.

"I do not believe that. What have you done that was so terrible?" Elizabeth accepted the handkerchief without so much as a nod or smile in his direction.

"I am jealous of her, one of my dearest friends." Knightley watched her with a confused expression. What could she have to be jealous of Emma? Elizabeth could hardly wish for Mr. Darcy's attentions. She _hated_ the man. What a couple they'd make. Knightley restrained a chuckle at the thought. Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy indeed.

Another thought hit Knightley that was not nearly so amusing. Perhaps… could it be…. Could Elizabeth be jealous that _he_ loved Emma? Was that it? Could she, in the midst of their playacting, have truly fallen for him? The thought chilled Knightley to the bone. If that was the case, Knightley could never return her love.

"Jealous of Emma?" He asked her warily. A simple nod was all the response he received. "Of what exactly, may I ask?" He had to _know_. He could not leave it as conjecture. Her answer would change everything.

"I love him," she breathed, almost too low for him to hear. Knightley's worried thoughts ended abruptly. _Him?_

"I don't understand." And he didn't. There was no one, other than himself and Darcy (who could never be loved by Elizabeth), that she could have any reason for being jealous of Emma; unless she meant Elton, but from her opinion of her cousin, he could not imagine her with the obtuse clergyman.

"Neither do I," Elizabeth scoffed as she rose rapidly. "He embodies everything I hate in men. He's arrogant, conceited, proud and haughty. He goes about thinking himself so very great, all the while staring down his nose at us so beneath him. And his manners, cold and distant with only the barest hint of civility, if there is any at all." All through this speech Elizabeth was making violent gestures with her hands and glaring at inanimate objects. She stopped talking, but continued to pace back and forth hastily.

"Yet," she continued in a softer tone before Knightley had composed himself enough to speak, "he _is _a good brother as well as a good friend. He is not cruel or spiteful and when he smiles I feel as though it is done only for me. Perhaps I have not always loved him so dearly as I do now, but he really is the very best of men; the _only_ man in world I could ever love." With each sentence, Elizabeth's pace had slowed and now she stood motionless before him, the expression in her eyes distant and dreamlike.

"Am I to assume," Knightley said slowly, still trying to comprehend what she had told him, "that you are speaking of… _Mr. Darcy_?" Her eyes snapped up to meet his, a cold determination filling them.

"Yes."

A heavy silence filled the now still air around them. Now that she had confessed, neither knew what to say. Knightley was astonished beyond all expression and Elizabeth slowly began to drown in her misery once more. She collapsed again on the bench, fresh sobs filling her. She was surprised she still had tears left. The silence grew more oppressive and Knightley made an effort to alleviate it.

"That was certainly unexpected." He stated finally.

"Indeed," Elizabeth chuckled. It certainly had come as much a shock to her as it had to him. Silence fell again for several minutes.

"I still can't say I like him much." Knightley tried to lessen the tension by making light of what he could. Elizabeth immensely appreciated the gesture.

"I can't say I expected you to," Elizabeth replied, "but do promise me that you will be civil, for my sake." He did promise her, albeit somewhat reluctantly, and silence once again dominated the air around them, but this time it was of a companionable nature.

* * *

**Harriet's wedding should come up in two or three chapters and then after that I have one more **_**big**_** misunderstanding to add, but I think that's the end of it. I know **_**exactly **_**how the conclusion is going to work. =)**

**Random Fact: I **_**never**_** believed in the Easter Bunny, Santa Claus, Tooth Fairy, etc. My parents just told me that they weren't real.**


	19. Dreams

All the while Emma was working on her sketch, she kept one eye on the window, looking for anyone to explain what had happened. It really wouldn't matter whom she saw first, any of them would be better informed than she was. It was several minutes before her vigil was rewarded.

Mr. Darcy stormed up the path from the gardens with an almost tangible black cloud of fury surrounding him. There were a few leaves stuck to his coat and hair, but he did not even notice them. This disheveled appearance made him seem almost wild and the black look in his eyes clearly served as a warning to stay away.

His plan had been to go to the stables, retrieve his horse and ride as fast from this place as possible. He had not intended to speak to anyone beyond a few curt sentences to the groom. He definitely did _not_ wish to enter the house for a chat with Emma. But as he passed the front doors, he heard his name being called. He did not intend to stop.

Emma had spotted only a flash of movement outside the window before she rushed to the door. She did not know who it was, nor saw his forbidding attitude. When she had her first chance to observe Darcy she wondered again how everything seemed to have gone wrong. She called out his name, but he did not stop; he would not. Emma called out once more and finally he slowed his pace and turned. She picked up her skirt and actually ran to him.

"What has happened?" Darcy's jaw tensed and he took a step backwards.

"She doesn't love me," he told her at last, "she is in love with Knightley. I know, I saw it. She was in tears—tears that I somehow caused—and he came to comfort her. When she looked up at him joy and relief filled her face. It was obvious, not only that she was happy to see him, but that she was relieved that he was not me."

"What did they say?" Darcy kicked a rock violently, sending it skittering down the walk. He would not look her in the face.

"I did not stay to hear;" Darcy whispered, "I could not."

"I am very sorry." Emma placed a comforting hand on his arm, but he shrugged it off angrily.

"I don't need your pity, nor do I want it. Your _Mr. Knightley_ only broke my heart and stole the woman I loved. I have no wish for sympathy." Emma bristled at the bitter and cruel tone he used. The disgust and contempt his voice held while speaking of Knightley snapped her final resolve.

"Do you think that this is easy for _me_? Do you think I bear this any better than you?" She yelled at him, causing him to reel back in surprise. "I _love_ him! Can you not understand that? It is all very well for you; you may hate Mr. Knightley and feel no cause for guilt. But in my love for Mr. Knightley I cannot bring myself to hate or even feel jealous of Elizabeth. How would it be if you no longer had someone to place the blame on for your inability to gain her affections? Mr. Knightley and Elizabeth are two of my dearest friends, and, should they marry, what a conflict would rage inside me. How could I wish them happy, feeling as I do? Yet, I could not wish them ill either for they are my friends. You may run away if you wish. You need not be here for the wedding or after, yet this is my only home as well as theirs. Everyday would I watch their happiness unable to confess the pain my heart possesses. So, do what you will. Be happy you are blessed with such a privilege." Emma turned and walked away from him, never turning to look back at the astonished expression his face held. She was long out of sight before he had recovered himself enough to do anything but stare after her. With a deep sigh, Darcy walked around to the stables at a sedate pace, mounting his horse quickly and riding back to Rosings lost in much reflection.

He did not sleep that night, nor did he the following night. It was on the third night that he understood his thoughts enough to create a plan. The first of which involved the writing of a letter.

* * *

At Hartfield, three days after the fight between Darcy and Emma, a note was delivered which was addressed to Emma in a masculine hand. That Elizabeth learned nothing of this note was providential, though its arrival did cause a stir of gossip among the staff. Emma noticed that it was not a hand she recognized, but felt that it could only be from one person.

_My dear Emma,_

_I feel that I must apologize to you for my behavior a few days ago; I was not myself, animated by both fury and jealousy, though this is hardly adequate to excuse such manners. I do understand what you must feel and wish more than anything I could do something to help you. Unfortunately, I do not think it quite as likely as I did once. _

_I have lost hope, but I will not give up and I will not run away. Even if I can do nothing more than comfort you at the wedding, I will be there. What are friends for after all? Whatever you need, do not hesitate to ask._

_I have little more to add as I will see you tomorrow anyway. I simply wish to say that though I am grateful for all the advice you have given me in my suit, I am choosing to disregard it. My attentions will become more marked, though I dare not hope she will leave him for me. But I must believe—we must believe._

_Not every story has a happily ever after and sometimes all we are left with are our dreams, but perhaps, if we hold tight enough to the dream, we can make it a reality._

_Fitzwilliam Darcy_

* * *

**This is **_**not **_**the misunderstanding I was talking about. Still another chapter or two till then.**

**Random Fact: On average I spend about four or five hours a day writing. And its only fiction. Fanfiction, original, poetry, storylines, scenes, etc. It's how I express myself and vent my feelings.**


	20. An Offer Accepted

Harriet's wedding was the next day, and Darcy, Elizabeth, Knightley and Emma were all anxious about it. It would be the first time in quite a while that they had _all_ been together and the first time since they had discovered their feelings towards the others. It would be awkward, of that there was no doubt.

The two carriages and Mr. Knightley arrived at near the same time. Knightley, who had ridden on horseback, was able to attend the ladies first and had the honor of helping them out of the carriage. Mr. Darcy appeared at their side seconds after, having left his cousin behind.

As the four of them stood out in the cold, the air around them was discomfited. No one knew how the act now since what had happened only a few days ago. Finally it was Darcy who made the first move. With as much politeness and gentility as he could muster, he smiled at Elizabeth.

"May I have the honor, Miss Bennet?" Both she and Knightley looked up at Darcy in astonishment.

"I… this is… well…." Elizabeth's flickering gaze fell on Knightley, who, with a simple nod, gave her the encouragement she needed. "Yes you may." Darcy gladly took her arm in his and just before he turned away, he caught Emma's eye and gave her a look of apology. Elizabeth and Knightley traded a glance upon seeing this. Why would Darcy pay attentions to Elizabeth when it was quite obvious that Emma was his goal?

Darcy pulled Elizabeth away from the group, leaving just Emma and Knightley. Before the other party had gone more than five paces, Knightley happily took the opportunity to offer his arm to Emma, as was the usual custom between them, but Knightley did not believe that he had ever done it before with such great pleasure.

As the four of them set off for the door to the church—Elizabeth on Darcy's arm and Emma on Knightley's—none of them could shake off the feeling of how _right_ it felt.

Nothing of note happened during the wedding. Darcy sent glances at Elizabeth constantly, but she was determined to ignore him. She feared anything that might make her love Darcy even more. Emma would give attention to nothing but the service, smiling happily for Harriet.

The rest of the day passed as uneventfully as the wedding.

The next morning found Emma in Elizabeth's room. She didn't know why she was there, but she felt drawn to the room for some reason. Emma scanned the room quickly and her eyes landed on a crumpled piece of paper on the floor. She picked it up cautiously.

Emma began to smooth out the paper when the sound of footsteps on the stairs startled her. She had only seen one word of the paper, but it was enough for her to shove it deep into her dress pocket and flee from the room.

Once safely in another room, Emma pulled the paper out and examined it once again. She flattened it out and began to read.

On this same day, Darcy chose to call on Elizabeth at Hartfield. He was told that Emma wished to see him in the drawing room.

He entered the room, hoping to find Elizabeth within, but the sight he met with astonished him beyond all measure. Emma stood before him, but not as he had ever seen her before. Her face deathly pale and her eyes held a haunted look.

"Emma, what is the matter?" With a trembling hand, she pointed to a loose leaf of paper that lay on the floor as though it had been dropped there. Darcy did nothing but blink at her, looking between the paper and her face, both near the same color. Taking a deep, shaky breath, Emma bent down and, using her forefinger and thumb, she picked the paper up as though she was holding something immeasurably vile. The paper quivered in her hand as she offered it, face-down, to him. Darcy reached out to take it but she drew it away silently. Finally, in response to the question in his eyes, she spoke.

"You may read it, but allow me to warn you that the contents will not please you. But perhaps it is better to discover it now than to hear it later." She offered it to him again, and this time she did not withdraw her hand.

All Darcy could see was the clean whiteness of the sheet he held. Carefully steeling himself to face the unknown, he flipped the paper over. Many lines and words were scratched out and impossible to read, but what he could make out was enough.

_Dear Mr. Knightley,_

_Do you remember the offer you made me not so very long ago? At the time I was worried and confused; I did not understand. I had thought that I could find the man I loved and was therefore hesitant to accept your proposal. __As you know, that no longer is a worry for I do know whom I love and accepting your offer is the best thing I could do. __Indeed, perhaps the only thing I could do._

_I have given the matter much thought and I am now certain of my answer. Yes, I accept your offer and will marry you. It is for the best and I believe bring as much happiness as is possible._

_Elizabeth Bennet_

* * *

**Yep, that's the misunderstanding. The good news is that next chapter should begin the resolution part. After all they've gone through, they are going to need a catalyst to make them realize that they people they love return the feeling. Any guesses as to the catalyst I have planned?**

**Random Fact: I was born with orange hair. **


	21. An Unexpected Visitor

**Congrats to Dancing Petals who guessed the catalyst.**

* * *

Darcy stared at the note in horror, his hands unconsciously clenching to crumple the paper and remove those awful words from his sight. He stood for several minutes in this position before the full weight of the matter fell upon him. His hands flinched back from the paper and it fell to the floor. Darcy took one more look at it before running out of the room.

Emma watched him with sympathetic eyes. She had already had her time to cry, it was only right that she comfort Darcy. With a small sigh, Emma picked up the crumpled ball of paper and stuck into her pocket. It would not do for someone else to find it.

She too left the room and searched quickly for Darcy. He was in the library, collapsed on a couch with his head in his hands. Emma softly entered the room, but she did not remember to close the door behind her. She silently crossed the room and sat next to Darcy.

"I told you that you would not like it," she said after a lengthy pause. Darcy just nodded his head distractedly and turned his eyes from hers. "Will you stay?" Darcy turned to meet her gaze, a thin sheen of tears lining his eyes.

"Yes, I will stay my allotted time and I will return for the wedding." Emma gave him a smile filled both gratitude and sorrow.

"Thank you, I don't believe I could survive the wedding on my own." They sat in companionable silence for several minutes each understanding the other's pain more than anyone else ever could.

"I will never marry," Emma's whisper broke the silence. Darcy wrapped a comforting arm around her.

"Nor will I." Tears began to fall from Emma's eyes and stain her cheeks. She leaned into him and pushed her face into his shoulder.

"I love him, so much."

"I know." Darcy gently lifted his free arm to smooth her hair as she cried into his coat. Her arms went around his torso and they took comfort in their friendly embrace. They were lost to everything but their sorrows, and both were oblivious to the sharp gasp that sounded from the doorway. Once the maid had gathered her wits about her, she backed out of the room and rushed off to tell her good friend Mrs. Barlow, the cook, the shocking tale of Miss Woodhouse and her guest. It was fortunate that, by the time anyone else appeared to check the rumors, the two friends were gone.

* * *

The next day, at about noon, Elizabeth and Emma were sitting together in the drawing room. Neither had spoken a word to the other all day and still they ignored each other, Emma sketching and Elizabeth intent on some needlework. It was an unusual situation. Before, they had always felt as if there was nothing they could not share with each other, but now, even simply pleasantries had become difficult.

Emma looked over at Elizabeth and opened her mouth to say something, but closed it again before any sound was made. What could she say? She could hardly offer her congratulations for the engagement, because Elizabeth still hadn't told her yet; a fact that hurt Emma all the more. She returned her attention to her sketching.

Elizabeth looked up not long after Emma, and she too almost spoke, but she could think of nothing to say. She could not ask about the wedding as Emma had not told her that she was engaged to Darcy. When did Emma plan to tell her, Elizabeth wondered. On her wedding day? Elizabeth too returned to her needlework.

Both sat in the room wondering how their friendship had fallen into such a state. They could not even hold a conversation about the weather without it becoming awkward or forced. It was wrong and they both knew it. They were letting their hearts separate them. What were men compared to the friendship they had once had? Something had to be done.

"We need to talk," they both said at the same time, looking up from their respective occupations. They looked at each other questioningly, neither wishing to go first. After a minute of indecision, Elizabeth prepared herself to begin.

Whatever she might have said, however, was lost as Lady Catherine was announced, shocking both Elizabeth and Emma speechless. The great lady strode into the room and offered a civil greeting to both, though her look grew somewhat unpleasant when observing Elizabeth.

There was no love lost between Elizabeth and Lady Catherine. They had met on several occasions when Elizabeth had been visiting Charlotte, and each time Elizabeth's witty remarks and impertinent contradictions had infuriated the lady.

That Elizabeth had little care for the distinction of rank and circumstance was another problem. Though she did not say things rude or utterly improper, her finding diversion in things Lady Catherine said could hardly increase the lady's opinion of her.

Lady Catherine chose to sit, before being asked, but the only notice it received was Elizabeth's glance at Emma. Emma, with all the politeness of a well bred woman of standing and fortune, offered the lady refreshment, but it was declined. Emma sent a fleeting look at Elizabeth, silently asking her what she thought of their guest. Out of Lady Catherine's sight, Elizabeth shrugged her shoulders.

"You have a very fine park here." Emma blinked at the lady. Lady Catherine did not simply make social calls to discuss such topics.

"Thank you, your ladyship." They were silent for a minute this, both Emma and Elizabeth utterly perplexed. Finally, Lady Catherine turned to Elizabeth and stared down her nose at her. She opened her mouth, and, with an air of great importance, she spoke.

"Leave us, Miss Bennet."

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**Random Fact: **_**Perplexed, discombobulated **_**and **_**sniggle**_** are also some of my favorite words. =)**


	22. Rumors and Accusations

Elizabeth bristled at the tone Lady Catherine used and prepared herself to give an impertinent reply when she caught Emma's eye. Emma shook her head infinitesimally. Elizabeth stood and offered Lady Catherine her barest curtsy, but the lady had already turned her attention on Emma. Elizabeth quit the room, closing the door with perhaps more force than was necessary. Lady Catherine wasted no time after Elizabeth's departure in addressing Emma.

"You cannot be ignorant, Miss Woodhouse, of my reason for coming hither. Indeed, you too must have heard the rumors."

"Rumors? What rumors?" Emma had been far too busy with all that had gone on around her to listen to any idle gossip. She wondered why Lady Catherine should pay so much attention to it.

"There has been some talk among the servants, both here and at Rosings. Though I cannot give any credit to their stories, I came here to encourage you to dismiss servants who would spread such slander about their employers." Lady Catherine frowned in disapproval and sat up impossibly straighter. She could not understand how such low class beings could speak so of their superiors.

"Surly it is not so bad as to warrant that?" Emma did not think it right to remove a family's livelihood for the sake of a few words of idle talk.

"I heard that my nephew gave you a letter, you an unmarried lady whom he has to connection with. If it were true, it would be most improper. And, just today I was told that you and Mr. Darcy were found in a compromising situation. Stories such as these would harm my nephew's reputation as well as your own. You _must _dismiss those who would slander you so." Emma had paled as she listened to what the gossipers had to say. The letter, yes, it had caused quite a stir among the staff. But a compromising situation? Emma could think of nothing. Well, nothing except…. The door to the library, she had left it open! Anyone could have seen their embrace and misconstrued it into something else.

"Do not you agree," Lady Catherine demanded after her silence, "that a lying servant should be punished?"

"Indeed they should," Emma replied, "but I will not punish a servant telling the truth." Lady Catherine's shock was quite apparent on her face. It was not long before shock gave way to fury, making the old woman nearly shake with anger.

"Do you mean to say," she asked sharply, "that the rumors are to be believed?" Emma looked away towards the window, suddenly wishing that Elizabeth would reenter the room. She could tell that Lady Catherine was waiting for her answer, so she merely nodded.

"I understand now," Lady Catherine said at last, "you mean to compromise him and force him to marry you, but I must tell you this will never happen." Emma cried out in response to the accusation being flung at her, but Lady Catherine did not stop. "Mr. Darcy is engaged to my daughter. Now what have you to say?"

"If he is engaged to her than you should have no worry of his making an offer to me. Mr. Darcy is a very honorable man." Emma fully believed what she said. She knew that if Darcy was engaged to his cousin then he would never make an offer to Elizabeth or have tried to win her affections in any way.

"I admit the engagement is of a peculiar kind; since their infancy they have been destined for each other. It was the express wish of his mother as well as hers. Do you think it can be prevented by the schemes of a woman inferior to him?"

"Inferior?" Emma cried, rising to her feet in outrage.

"Yes," Lady Catherine rose to her feet as well, "you cannot deny that you would associate with those beneath you. What of your friend Harriet Smith, the natural daughter of no one. To be without the knowledge of one's parents is worse even than to be a peasant. And the man she married, the less said of him, the better." Emma's jaw tensed at the insults against her friend.

"Mr. Martin is a good, respectable man."

"He is a farmer," Lady Catherine declared as though it was a great insult.

"He is, but I have found him to be well educated," Lady Catherine scoffed with much derision, "and his sisters were quite well-bred. Perhaps even more so than those who have both wealth and standing." Lady Catherine did not miss the insult to her person.

"You dare insult me? Miss Smith is not the only one of your acquaintances to do you disservice. Miss Bennet, whom you have even invited into your home, brings scorn on to you. You gain nothing by associating with those so outside your circle, indeed, it only does you disfavor." Emma took a furious step toward Lady Catherine.

"Elizabeth is the daughter of a gentleman, as am I. We are equal!" Lady Catherine straightened her back and stood as tall as was possible. She succeeded even in looking down her nose at Emma, though she was several inches shorter.

"Are you engaged to my nephew?" Emma glared at Lady Catherine and gave the most impertinent reply she could.

"Your ladyship has declared that to be impossible."

"It ought to be so," Lady Catherine cried, "but his sense of honor may drive him to forget what he owes to all the family. You may have compromised him!" Emma wondered momentarily why they were arguing about this when the wish of both was the same. Neither wanted an engagement between Mr. Darcy and Emma.

"If I had I should be the last to confess it." Lady Catherine closed her eyes briefly and took a deep breath to reign in her anger.

"Miss Woodhouse, I am not accustomed to being spoken to in this manner. I demand that you tell me once and for all, are you engaged to Mr. Darcy?" Emma saw the end of the argument was near and wearily she answered the lady's demands.

"I am not." Emma could hear the sigh of relief Lady Catherine gave and she smirked slightly. It appeared that the engagement between Mr. Darcy and Miss de Bourgh was not as certain as Lady Catherine had made it out to be.

"And will you promise never to enter in to such an engagement."

"I will." This was no great evil to Emma. She had never planned to get married period, let alone to Mr. Darcy. And there was no way Darcy would ever propose to her, being so in love as he was.

"Then I will leave you, Miss Woodhouse, but I wish to hear no more gossip of the two of you. If I do, I will not hesitate to act." Then, surrounded by an air of her own self-importance, Lady Catherine quit the house.

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**Random Fact: My favorite Austin hero is Mr. Knightley and my favorite heroine is Anne Elliot. My favorite couple is Darcy and Elizabeth.**


	23. Eavesdropping and Correspondence

Elizabeth paced in a room just outside the one she had been forced out of. She wondered what Lady Catherine could have to say to Emma, for surely it was a matter of great importance. The lady would never have condescended to call otherwise. In her curious state, Elizabeth often passed near the door, but she could not bring herself to listen in.

Eventually, Elizabeth took a seat, hoping to reign in her curiosity. It was not above a minute that she rose again, hearing raised voices from the room. Though her wish was to rush into the room and discover what was happening, she composed herself and managed to walk at a normal pace to the door. Once there, her hand hovered above the doorknob, but she was unsure her presence would be welcome. Though she did not enter the room, the voices therein had grown loud enough that she could hear them with little difficulty.

"_Miss Bennet, whom you have even invited into your home,_ _brings scorn on to you. You gain nothing by associating with those so outside your circle, indeed, it only does you disfavor." _Elizabeth gritted her teeth in anger. That Lady Catherine would say such things was proof of her ill breeding.

_"Elizabeth is the daughter of a gentleman, as am I. We are equal!" _At this passionate declaration Elizabeth's anger melted away and tears of happiness pooled in her eyes. She had always known herself to be below Emma in social standing, but it had never been so bluntly put before. Emma's defense of her drove Elizabeth to realize how foolhardy they had been to risk their friendship over so paltry a thing as men. What were men compared to the friendship they had shared?

"_I demand that you tell me once and for all, are you engaged to Mr. Darcy?"_ Elizabeth, who had not attended the conversation during her thoughts, was drawn back in by this question. She knew what answer must surely be coming and she dreaded it.

"_I am not."_ Elizabeth sigh of relief was masked by Lady Catherine's. Elizabeth was slightly incredulous. She feared that Emma was only denying the truth to avoid the great lady's wrath.

_"And will you promise never to enter in to such an engagement?" _Ah, here was the question that Elizabeth feared more. If in fact Emma and Mr. Darcy were not engaged (though Elizabeth was sure they were) then they must have some understanding. Emma could hardly deny this.

"_I will." _Or, perhaps she could. Was it again to avoid angering Lady Catherine? Elizabeth could not think Emma in truth. Yet, if Emma's wish had been to only placate Lady Catherine, why had she defended Elizabeth as she had done? Could it be…? Could they have been mistaken? Was it possible that Emma did _not_ in fact love Mr. Darcy? There was little evidence of this conjecture; little hope. But it was more than either she or Mr. Knightley had possessed before this. Mr. Knightley! She would write to him at once!

And so Elizabeth raced down the hall to her own room, missing Lady Catherine by no more than seconds.

A letter was written not a half-hour later, containing simply the facts. She did not embellish her assumptions nor give Knightley any reason to hope more than was wise. The only problem she was faced with in regards to the letter was the method of posting. She could hardly send a servant bearing a letter to a man she was not related to in any way and there was not the time to walk.

As Elizabeth thought over her options, she had wandered down stairs and into the drawing room; her letter, fully addressed, was still held in her hands. It remained there until she heard footsteps move in her direction. She shoved the letter hastily into her dress pocket, fearing that it was Emma. It was not, thankfully. Instead, Colonel Fitzwilliam was announced.

Elizabeth greeted him warmly and he smiled at her in return. Their conversation began, but Elizabeth found herself distracted by the letter in her pocket. It needed to be sent and soon, but she could not think how. She could not deliver it herself, nor did she know anyone who could deliver it for her. Unless.…

"Colonel Fitzwilliam, may I ask a favor of you?" The gentleman was surprised at being addressed with such a request. There was nothing he could imagine Elizabeth needing of him.

"You may." Elizabeth nodded and reached her hand inside her pocket and pulled out the, now slightly crumpled, letter.

"Would you give this to Mr. Knightley?" Colonel Fitzwilliam could not speak, not knowing which of his objections he should speak first. For Elizabeth to send a letter to a man she was not connected to would be most improper. But perhaps they were connected? Perhaps they had an understanding? To that too the colonel found objection. He had been told that Emma was in love with Knightley and he worried at the amount of pain such a love triangle could cause.

"It contains nothing improper I assure you," Elizabeth continued when he did not respond. "And it is of the utmost import that he is made aware of its contents. Please, I implore you." At her pleading, Fitzwilliam took the letter against his better judgment and sighed.

"If it is that important, I will do it."

"Trust me," Elizabeth said softly as he made his way to the door, "it has the capacity to solve many problems."

An hour later, Elizabeth was keeping a vigil of the windows, watching for Knightley's arrival. He could hardly stay away in the face of the information she had given him. She scarcely tore her eyes away from the walk for a moment.

Her observation was interrupted not much later by a servant who handed Elizabeth her correspondence, which, surprisingly, contained two letters, both from Jane. One had come late for Jane had written the direction very ill indeed.

The first was nothing unusual, detailing the antics of the Gardiner children and the London events she attended. At the end, however, a paragraph of a most shocking nature caught Elizabeth quite off guard. With a haste ill suited to the task, she tore open the envelope of the second letter and read hurriedly.

It could not be possible. She could scarce believe it. For one of the first times in her life, Elizabeth was absolutely speechless.

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**Uh oh. A cliffhanger. What could possibly have been in the letters? Guess you'll have to wait to find out. The next chapter is started so hopefully it will be a quick update.**

**Random Fact: I have terrible vision. Without the aid of glasses or contacts I can barely see two feet in front of my face.**


	24. The Point of His Envy

**There will be a few direct quotes from the book in this one, (OK maybe more than a few) but I could hardly do justice to this scene, let alone improve it. It is very cannon-like but there will be **_**some**_** very noticeable differences. =)**

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Sitting in the parlor alone, Emma began to wonder at all that Lady Catherine had said. How could she have so misjudged Emma's interactions with Darcy? Was she merely bias in her opinion of her nephew that she believed any young lady should wish to marry him? Or, Emma realized suddenly, was that how it appeared to others as well?

It was too much. The previously airy room grew suddenly stifling and Emma rushed to escape out into the open air. Perhaps there she could sort out her thoughts.

She was lost in these reflections for above an hour as she strolled around the garden. She may have even reflected longer, had it not been for her seeing Mr. Knightley coming out of the house and purposefully in her direction.

The greetings between them were awkward. After a few moments of silence Emma collected herself and strove to treat Knightley no differently than she would have previous months. She asked after his health; he was well.—When had he left Donwell?—Only a quarter hour before. He must have ridden quite quickly.—Yes.—He meant to walk with her; that seemed his sole purpose in coming to Hartfield.

They continued on in silence, though she often caught him looking towards her and straining to gain a better view of her face than his angle allowed. It was as though he was perpetually on the verge of speech, but his resolve wavered each time. Perhaps he wished to speak with her of his engagement to Elizabeth? Could he be just waiting for encouragement to begin? She would not, could not, start that topic with him. He would have to do it all himself. With a minuscule sigh, Emma composed herself—or at least attempted to—and forced a smile.

"I have some news that will surprise you greatly," Emma told him, breaking the tension-filled silence at last.

"Indeed?" He asked quietly. "Of what nature is this news?"

"I cannot truly say. I had a rather strange guest this morning." She paused, hoping to elicit some response from him.

"You are referring to Lady Catherine, I believe." Emma's astonishment was easily apparent and Mr. Knightley needed no further inquiry. "I had a letter." Here he paused, but Emma's eyes still questioned him. "From Colonel Fitzwilliam."

"Oh!" Emma had expected him to have heard from Elizabeth or perhaps even to have talked with Elizabeth before coming to seek her. She was very well pleased to discover that she was wrong. "But you cannot have heard what the interview was about?" That Colonel Fitzwilliam was Lady Catherine's nephew made it likely that he would know where his aunt was going, but, having know the great lady for some time, Emma doubted that she would share the purpose of her visit.

"To some degree. Was it not to discuss your…_ relationship_ with Mr. Darcy." Knightley could not think of the right term to use for Emma's understanding with Darcy. Even the word 'relationship', as vague as it was, caused him immeasurable pain.

"You are better informed than I thought. It is true that Lady Catherine did not want me to have any sort of designs toward her nephew. She even went so far as to tell me that he was engaged to his cousin, Anne." Unseen by Emma, Knightley's jaw tightened in response to the last statement. He had, at times, wondered at Darcy's apparent attentions toward Elizabeth, but he had always assumed that it was in the interest of becoming better acquainted with the friend of his fiancée. Then again, Darcy never strived to gain _Knightley's_ friendship in any way. Could Emma have fallen in love with a rouge who casually flirted and attended any woman nearby? Could Knightley believe that Darcy was so very bad? It may have been merely the result of his jealousy but, he could very well believe Mr. Darcy capable of that.

Mr. Knightley looked back at his companion and thought he detected a hurt in her eyes. With the hope of comforting her, he took her arm in his and pressed it to his heart. When she looked up at him in surprise, he spoke in a voice full of emotion,

"Time, my dearest Emma, will heal the wound. Your own excellent sense—your exertions for your father's sake—I know you will not allow yourself—." He pressed her arm more fervently to his breast and continued to speak in a broken voice, though the emotion became more subdued. "The feelings of the warmest friendship—indignation—abominable scoundrel!" The last he yelled with a sensibility Emma had never before heard uttered by him. "He will soon be gone and back to Derbyshire where he can do no more harm." Emma understood him then. She spent a moment before speaking trying to sort out her emotions and wondering whether to be offended for Mr. Darcy's sake or pleased that Mr. Knightley should care so much for welfare.

"Do not blame Mr. Darcy for what his aunt said. He did not know of her coming or what she was going to say." Jealousy and anger raged in Mr. Knightley's heart as he listened to Emma's defense of Darcy. It always seemed she was defending him.

"He is a most fortunate man!" he cried out with great energy. "He has treated everyone ill and they are all delighted to forgive him; even those who swore never to like him find their opinions changing." Knightley paused here before shaking his head and saying in a tone of deep scorn, "he is fortunate man indeed!"

"You speak almost as if you envied him."

"I do envy him, Emma. In one respect I envy him very much." Emma's heart rose to her throat, preventing speech. They were too near the topic she had been hoping to avoid; Elizabeth. Would he now tell her that he was engaged to Elizabeth? Could she bear to listen to his effusions of happiness and then offer him joy? No; not yet. She could not do it now. The alternative was for her to change the subject and direction of the conversation. She had just taken a breath to begin when he spoke again.

"You will not ask me the point of my envy," he said halting his steps and bringing her to a stop beside him. "You are determined, I see, to have no curiosity. You are wise. But I? I cannot be wise, Emma. I must tell you what you will not ask, though I may wish it unsaid the next moment."

"Then don't speak it," Emma cried out desperately, "please don't speak it. Take a little time; consider. Do not commit yourself." His grip of her arm tightened for a moment almost painfully before he loosened it again.

"Thank you," was all he said.

They continued walking again, but Knightley no longer pressed her arm to his heart as he did before. Her arm remained in his grasp but the touch had grown colder; more indifferent. Emma knew her outburst had caused him pain, but she wondered how much pain she would have suffered had she let him continue. Emma looked up at his face once more and the pain she saw therein broke her heart. She could not cause him pain. Whatever must be done to cure the hurt she had already caused him would be done. Even if it meant praising his choice of Elizabeth or offering to help with the wedding.

"You are going in, I suppose?" said Mr. Knightley. Emma had not realized they had reached the house.

"No," Emma replied, noting that his voice still held depressed tones. "I should like to make another turn." He acquiesced. They had not continued more than ten steps before Emma took a deep breath and spoke again.

"I stopped you ungraciously just now, Mr. Knightley, and gave you pain. If you have anything to say openly to me—as a friend—or ask my opinion of anything you may have in contemplation—as a friend—indeed I cannot refuse you. I will hear whatever you like. And I will tell you _exactly_ what I think."

"As a friend!" he repeated, turning his head away. "I fear the word, Emma. No, I have no wish—Stay, yes, why should I hesitate? I have gone too far already for concealment." This he said almost to himself and as though Emma was not supposed to hear. He turned to face her once again. "I accept your offer. Extraordinary as it may seem, I accept it and refer myself to you as your friend. Tell me then, have I no chance of ever succeeding?" His eyes stared deep into hers and she was nearly overpowered by the expression they held. She could not speak; she hardly dared even breathe, lest she break the fragile perfection she had found.

"My dearest Emma," continued he, "for dearest you always will be, whatever the event of this hour's conversation, my dearest, most beloved Emma, tell me at once. Say 'no' if it is not to be said." He waited a moment, but she would remain soundless. "You are silent; absolutely silent. At present I ask for nothing more.

"I cannot make speeches. If I loved you less I might be able to talk about it more. But you know what I am. You will hear nothing but the truth from me. I have blamed you, and lectured you, and you have borne it as not other woman in England would have borne them. Bear with the truths I would tell you now, dearest Emma, as well as you have borne with them. The manner, perhaps, may have as little to recommend them. God knows I have been a very indifferent lover. But you understand me. Yes, you see, you understand my feelings and will return them if you can. At present I ask only to hear; once to hear your voice." Such rapture and heartfelt delight as was then felt by Emma could hardly be expressed. That Mr. Knightley—her Mr. Knightley—should now have and have always had such feelings caused her heart to soar. Tears of bliss sparkled unshed in her eyes.

"What about Elizabeth?" This was the only sorrow that Emma could feel. "Will she not be cruelly disappointed?"

"Disappointed that you will not marry Darcy? Preposterous!"

"Marry Mr. Darcy?" Emma repeated with a laugh. "Wherever did you get such a notion?"

"Has he not given you his hand as well as his heart?"

"His heart," Emma scoffed. "To give me his heart first he must wrestle it away from Elizabeth."

"What! Do you mean to say he loves her?"

"Indeed, he is quite smitten."

"Oh dear! Then love has made fools of us all."

"We are all fools in love; but then, if we were sensible, we should not fall in love at all."

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**Remember that big cliffhanger I left you last chapter? Yep, no mention of it whatsoever in **_**this**_** chapter. Perhaps I might tell you next chapter. Or not. Might just leave you hanging for a while.**

**Random Fact: I have an ingrained reflex to correct grammar mistakes I hear. With my friends, I usually interrupt whatever they are saying to add a correction (most of them ignore it now, but a few have gotten the habit too). When teachers make the mistakes I usually make a comment to the person sitting next to me if I know them. I can't control it very often, but I still get glared at from time to time.**


	25. Communications

**Sorry for the long wait. I am stressed, sick and half asleep right now, so the quality of this chapter may not be the best, but I updated and that's the important thing, right.**

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The couple continued walking for some time, touching on many topics with an honesty and freedom that had been sorely missed these past few weeks. They talked of Elizabeth and Darcy and laughed at their misguided thoughts and fears. But, through all this, there was one question that could not be removed from Emma's thoughts.

"There is one thing I do not understand," Emma said. "I found a letter, in Elizabeth's room, that was addressed to you. The letter said that she accepted your offer of marriage." Knightley's widened a moment before he remembered.

"I did make an offer of marriage to Elizabeth," here Emma cringed slightly, both at the words and Knightley's causal use of Elizabeth's Christian name, "but it was conditional only."

"Conditional? What were the conditions?" Emma asked quickly, desperate to know.

"We would marry only after your marriage to Darcy took place." The tension which had been prevalent in Emma's body evaporated and she let out a sigh of relief.

"Did you really think it so possible?"

"Indeed," Knightley assured her as they began yet another circuit around the grounds. "I was certain that only the date was yet in question. There were many things I took for signs, though it was Elizabeth who was first convinced."

"Oh, Elizabeth! We must inform her of our engagement at once." This was agreed upon and the couple turned around to go the shorter distance back to the house. Both smiled, not only for their own happiness, but also for the joy that they would soon be giving their dear friends.

Sadly, it was not to be. Elizabeth, they found, had gone on a walk and was not to be found. As they waited, both searched for occupation. Emma sat down with her sketch again and Knightley glanced over her shoulder to see the part of the drawing he had not before. Just before looking, he had a sudden fear (irrational as it was in light of recent events) that the woman in the picture _would_ be Emma. Thus, it was with a relived smile that he examined the likeness of Elizabeth on the page.

Still there were other matters to attend to and Knightley set about writing letters to his other friends in the neighborhood, such as Mr. Weston and Colonel Fitzwilliam, to declare his engagement.

* * *

Colonel Fitzwilliam received his letter not much more than an hour afterwards. He had been with Darcy at the time, playing chess in one of the smaller parlors. Once the letter was in his hands, he forfeited the game (which he was losing anyway) and turned to it instead, leaving Darcy to his own devices. Darcy simply picked up a book from the side table. He buried himself in the volume and did not look up until he could no longer ignore the laughter coming from his cousin.

"What is it?" Darcy demanded after reading the same sentence more than three times. Colonel Fitzwilliam made an attempt to speak but it was lost amid more mirth. At last, with great effort, he composed himself.

"Knightley is getting married. _Finally_." Both irritation and color drain from Darcy's face, but the colonel was perusing the letter once again and failed to notice.

"He is engaged?" Darcy's voice shook, but he could not steady it.

"I can hardly believe it myself. And what is even more surprising is the lady whom he means to marry. Have you any guess?"

"No I do not," Darcy lied through clenched teeth. Hearing the news of Elizabeth's engagement was hard enough without his cousin making light of it.

"Come, you must have some guess." Darcy made no answer. "It is a young woman who has been in our company quite often." Still the colonel could not entice a word from his cousin. "Her name begins with the letter 'E'." Darcy's body tensed and his jaw clenched, but no verbal response was given.

"I thought you would be happy for her," the colonel's gaiety died and he worriedly observed his cousin.

"I will try," came the short response. Darcy rose from his chair and made to leave the room.

"I thought that you were good friends with Emma." Colonel Fitzwilliam called after him, causing Darcy to pause.

"I am."

"But you do not seem happy to hear the news."

"What news?"

"Of her upcoming marriage to Knightley." Darcy's entire body froze. He took several deep breaths to calm himself.

"Mr. Knightley is to marry _Emma_?" He spoke the words slowly and distinctly to be sure there could be no error.

"Yes, of course. Who else did you think I meant?" Darcy dashed across the room and snatched the letter from his cousin's startled hands. He needed proof that his cousin was telling the truth.

It was there as he had said.

"Darcy, are you quite alright?" Darcy looked over at his cousin and allowed a beaming smile to take over his face.

"I do not think I have ever been happier in my life." After saying this, Darcy raced from the room, dropping the letter on the way and leaving his bewildered cousin to gape after him.

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**Random Fact: Flummoxed is, as of now, my absolute favorite word.**


	26. Jane's News

When Elizabeth had received the _two_ letters from Jane, she had been pleasantly surprised but, upon reading the closing, the emotion had intensified.

"_Oh, Lizzy, since writing the above, such a fantastic thing has happened that I feel you must be acquainted with at once. I had been to visit our aunt Phillips when I was told that Netherfield Park was being opened again. At first I must confess that the news distressed me, as I thought that it had been let out to another party. But then Aunt Phillips told me quite clearly that the house had been bought out right. And who bought it? This is the most fantastic part of all. Mr. Bingley is the man. He means to come soon and stay for a good while I suspect, but I own, my dearest Lizzy, that his coming distresses me. I do not know how to act when I see him. Perhaps we will not meet. It is not likely that he should desire such an encounter. _

"_Without you here, I know not what to think or do. Please write as swiftly as you are able. Yours affectionately._

"_Jane Bennet"_

With a frenzy of action Elizabeth groped for the second envelope. When at last she had the letter in hand, she tore it open and read hungrily, her haste postponing her progress. It took her above twenty minutes to fully comprehend all that was written.

"_Dearest Lizzy, you have not written, I know, but I must tell you what has happened. He is here. Though even now I can hardly believe it, he is here, not five miles off. I have seen him. It was not as I expected. In all honesty, I did not believe he would come. But he did. Then I did not think I would see him for several weeks at the very least, giving me time to prepare myself, but the very next day after his arrival, he called at Longbourn. Mama was in a flutter, but even her nerves could not compare to mine. What was to be said to him? I has only been a few months, but I felt almost as if we should be strangers._

"_Indeed, I was sitting and contemplating these very thoughts when he came to sit near me. He had only spoken a few words and smiled once, but that was enough to make all ease and friendliness as it had been not long ago. He has apologized many times over and begged my forgiveness for his abrupt departure. We have become as close as we ever were but, Lizzy, I do fear for my heart. It has been broken once already. Should I risk it once again?_

"_There is one more thing I believe you should know. Mr. Bingley has talked often of his leaving and how much he regretted it that once I ventured to ask why he did. It appears he thought me indifferent! How strange. Upon hearing this, I made one more inquiry and that was to ask what made him come back. Mr. Darcy I know you have always hated, but I do hope that he may appear in better light after this. It seems that Mr. Darcy convinced Mr. Bingley to return. I have always thought him to be a good man, but I leave you to make of this information what you will. I remain yours affectionately._

"_Jane Bennet"_

Elizabeth was not in the least composed after reading this. She sat for some minutes in total silence before roughly grabbing the second letter again and reading the ending. Mr. Darcy was the cause for her sister's current happiness? When had he done it?

A noise was heard close by and Elizabeth, aware of how ill-equipped she was of keeping her composure, quitted the house.

As she strolled about the Hartfield grounds, Elizabeth examined the letters and their contents again. She was happy for Jane, but try as she might, she could not stop her mind from continually drifting to the mention of Darcy's involvement. Elizabeth wondered why he would admit his wrong and persuade Bingley to return to Netherfield. For one brief and wonderful moment, Elizabeth allowed herself to believe that he had done it to please her and in an effort to gain her favor. As much as she wished it, she knew it could not be truth. He was to marry Emma, of this Elizabeth was absolutely certain. Mr. Darcy had hardly ever considered her an acquaintance. He could never have even entertained romantic feelings for her. Indeed it would be a reprehensible connection for a man so distinguished as Mr. Darcy was.

It was impossible and she would not think of it again. There was no use in dreaming of what would never be.

Her name was called from some yards away. She stopped walking and looked up to see the figure making their way quickly toward her. Shifting somewhat awkwardly where she stood, Elizabeth waited as the person approached.

"Miss Bennet," he said breathlessly upon reaching her.

"Mr. Darcy." He looked at her, swallowed and shifted about in a rather odd manner. He almost looked nervous.

"Miss Bennet, I hoped I could find you here. I wished to speak to you about… that is to say I hoped to… I wanted to know.…" Darcy trailed off and Elizabeth had understood none of his meaning.

"Yes, Mr. Darcy," she prompted. He shook his head.

"Might I walk with you a ways, Miss Bennet?" With a simple nod of her head she assented and they walked side by side in silence.

* * *

**How you all assumed. They've had enough problems without Lydia interfering. I think it's time they earned some happiness and fluff. =)**

**Random Fact: On average I eat two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches a day. But I only ever use grape jelly. **


	27. At Last

Elizabeth and Darcy walked for some time in silence. Neither knew what to say, how to say it or even if it should be said at all. They fretted and worried, stealing glances at the other when they felt it wouldn't be noticed. They had no planned direction, but both naturally gravitated away from the house wanting to prolong the walk as much as possible. At several points Darcy was on the brink of a declaration, but each time his courage failed him. At last, it was Elizabeth who spoke.

"Mr. Darcy," his head jerked up, perhaps a little too quickly, and he gave her his entire attention, "this meeting I feel has been rather fortunate, for there is something I wish to say to you." Darcy waited with flutters of anticipation. "I have just had two letters from Jane." Elizabeth looked over to see Darcy's expression of confusion. "She wrote that Mr. Bingley has, not only returned to Netherfield, but bought it outright. It was also said that you were the cause for this." Darcy nodded and looked away. "For this I must offer you my deepest gratitude and thanks." He did not reply for many minutes after her conclusion. Instead he continued walking, but his entire posture had changed into one more tense.

"I do not want your gratitude," he said at last. "I did nothing more than to correct a mistake I had made. It was hardly admirable."

"You are mistaken, sir, to think that there is no merit in righting a wrong. Indeed there is, especially if it is your own. Even to admit you were mistaken shows credit to your character."

"If you will pardon my contradiction, Miss Bennet, I must confess that I feel you are wrong. But let us not argue on _this_ point. At least, not today." He paused. "Regardless of whether or not my actions merit it, I do not want your gratitude, Miss Bennet. Indeed, I would rather you had not been made aware of my measures in helping my friend." He paused again and this time stopped walking as well. Elizabeth stopped a step or two beyond him and looked back at him. After a minute of silence, she turned her whole body to face him.

"Miss Bennet," he began again then trailed off into another awkward silence.

"Yes, Mr. Darcy?"

"Do you feel the same?" He blurted out. Elizabeth did not understand.

"I beg your pardon?"

"At the party, you called me arrogant and conceited, yet since then we have always seemed more civil. But even so, there has been no easiness or friendliness in your manner towards me. You have been always so ill at ease that I cannot comprehend what you feel. What is it that prevents us from becoming any closer than our current discomfited acquaintance?" It was the most that had been said so far in this conversation.

"You wish to be friends, sir?" She asked, almost afraid of the answer. She could not be friends with him, feeling the way she did.

"No!" He exclaimed with great feeling. After a moment, he comprehended what his outburst implied and blanched. "Yes… in a way." Elizabeth gave him a questioning look. "Oh, this is getting us nowhere," he declared. Elizabeth did not reply and the remained in silence for some time.

"You liked Mr. Knightley," Darcy said at last.

"I do," came her sure reply. She did not understand what relevance this had to whatever Mr. Darcy was attempting to say. His use of past tense was also rather odd. "He is a good man."

"Yes," returned Darcy, watching Elizabeth carefully for her reaction, "I believe he will make Emma very happy." Elizabeth started violently.

"You… he.… What?"

"You have not heard of their engagement?" Darcy asked cautiously.

"No indeed. Does she love him?" The last was spoken softly and carefully, worried she might cause Darcy pain with this thought. Elizabeth had prepared herself to comfort Darcy in his grief, but his answer was very calm and nothing about him held an air of depression.

"Very much so," Darcy readily assured her on this point, but he wondered at Elizabeth's being so composed and collected at the news of Mr. Knightley being engaged.

"Then I am very happy for them both."

"You are?" It was more of an exclamation than an inquiry.

"Of course. Aren't you?" Darcy's skepticism greatly confused Elizabeth. Why should she not be happy for her friends? Did he perhaps hope that she would help him convince Emma to break off her understanding with Mr. Knightley in favor of one with Darcy? That she would not do.

"Without a doubt," he declared quickly. "But surely you must feel some little discomfort at the news?"

"I do not," Elizabeth stated decidedly. "They are good friends of mine. Why would I wish them ill?"

"Only friends?"

"Emma is family near enough, I suppose." Darcy shook his head.

"What of Mr. Knightley. Surely his engagement affects you."

"It pleases me, but nothing more."

"You are not engaged to Mr. Knightley?" In Darcy's opinion, there had been enough edging around the question. Now it would stop and they could understand each other.

"No. I am not now, nor ever will be." Darcy exhaled a deep breath he did not remember drawing in.

"What of the letter?"

"The letter?" Darcy gave a quick explanation of its contents. "Oh! I wondered where that had got to. Mr. Knightley's offer was conditional only. We would marry only after the wedding between yourself and Emma."

"Marry Emma? What a notion! We were both to far lost in love to even consider each other in that light." Elizabeth started again.

"Lost in love?" She repeated tentatively. Just as the first feelings of hope were beginning to rise within her, they were to be crushed once again.

"Indeed, I am very much lost in love. I am sick, pale and mad with it."

"Yet, you are not happy?" Elizabeth observed. "From your description it sounds much like grief. In grief too can one be lost, sick, pale and mad."

"I am not happy, as you so keenly observed, because I do not know if the object of my affections cares for me at all in the same way."

"How can she not," cried Elizabeth with great feeling and little reserve. She did not see the small smile that rose to Darcy face. "You are a good man—great even—and in possession of all those traits which are most admirable in a man. There could be _no_ objections to your character. If she does not love you, she is a fool. Perhaps even more so than I."

"Are you a fool, Elizabeth?" Darcy asked trying, unsuccessfully, to keep a smirk off his face.

"Yes, a great one."

"And what is your folly?" He paused a minute before continuing. "Are you the sort of fool to spurn a proposal from a great man whose character can brook no objections?" Elizabeth looked up at him in shock.

"I do not understand."

"Then I shall put it at its simplest form. Elizabeth Bennet, will you marry me?"

"Yes," she cried, throwing her arms around his neck. Darcy's hands hesitantly reached around her back. His touch was feather light as though he feared applying pressure would shatter the beautiful dream he had fallen into. He closed his eyes and smiled as they embraced in the open country lane.

At last all felt right.

* * *

**Random Fact: I have seen more old B-rated horror flicks than just about everyone I know. Especially the really low budget cheesy ones. They can be downright hysterical at times.**


	28. Pockets of Bliss

**Sorry this took so long, but the last two weeks of school are always the hardest with finals and worrying over grades. I am very happy to say that I kept my 4.0 this year. =)**

* * *

There was a deal of conversation held between the two lovers as they continued their stroll around the Hartfield grounds. They had much they needed to say about occurrences both past and present. At times these memories brought laughter and smiles out into the open, while at others the mood grew more somber. After some time the couple became aware of how long they'd been walking and felt that it was time to return to the house.

The moment they entered Hartfield, they were met by another very happy couple. Emma quickly met Elizabeth with an affectionate hug. Once they had pulled away, Emma held one of Elizabeth's hands and reached out for one of Darcy's. With an excited grin and a breathless voice, she relayed her good news. The couple before her offered the sincerest of congratulations. Darcy squeezed Emma's hand affectionately and smiled in a way that he had not since his mother died.

Elizabeth looked over Emma's shoulder and caught the eye of the man standing back from their happy group. Her face clearly expressed her happiness for him. He grinned at her somewhat foolishly—as a man in love is inclined to do—and shot a quick glance over to Darcy whom he noticed was standing very close to Elizabeth. Her only response was to blush but, for him, it was enough.

"But are you not surprised?" Emma asked this to both Darcy and Elizabeth but it was clear that the question was more directed to the latter.

"Not in the least," Elizabeth replied archly, sending a quick glance at Knightley. She looked away, only to catch Darcy's eye. He quirked an eyebrow at her.

"What I mean to say," Elizabeth continued, "is that I was already informed of your engagement."

"How?" Emma asked.

"My cousin received your letter and shared it with me not two hours ago," Darcy answered for Elizabeth. "Not long after, I had the pleasure of meeting Miss Bennet and I informed her."

"Not long after?" Emma asked mischievously. "How long exactly have the two of you been walking then?" The couple shifted nervously. "What could you possibly have found to discuss in all that time?" Elizabeth blushed furiously.

"We have our own announcement to make," Darcy declared joyously. "Miss Bennet has agreed to make me the happiest man on earth." Darcy gently dropped Emma's hand and took Elizabeth's instead, raising it to his lips and depositing a loving kiss on it.

"Second happiest man," Knightley amended. Emma turned to give him a dazzling smile, reached out to take his hands and just stared into his eyes.

Thus the happy couples stayed; content in their own pockets of bliss. And thus they would have stayed had not their peace been interrupted.

Lady Catherine strode self-righteously into the front door of Hartfield followed by a much harried Colonel Fitzwilliam. She had intended to demand to see Emma and her nephew, but she had not expected to see them immediately upon entering.

"I demand to know what is going on!" The couples broke apart with a start at this intrusion. They looked around at each other in confusion.

"I am afraid I cannot comprehend what you mean, Lady Catherine," Emma said at last.

"You should know very much what I mean! Did I not inform you—only today, may I add—that Mr. Darcy is engaged to my daughter?" Darcy attempted to protest, but went unheard. "Was I not exceedingly clear about the honor and merit that my nephew would suffer?"

"Indeed you were, Lady Catherine, but—" Emma attempted to speak but she was quickly overwhelmed by the great lady.

"Then how could you have gone against everything I said?"

"I did not."

"How dare you lie to me? You compromised him!" Emma began to grasp an idea of what the lady meant from this outburst.

"I did not compromise him—"

"But you are engaged!"

"To Mr. Knightley!" There was a great pause as Lady Catherine was silent. She took in the room again, but this time she saw things she had missed before, such as the closeness between Emma and Mr. Knightley.

"I see," Lady Catherine said finally. She turned her accusing gaze to Colonel Fitzwilliam who raised his hands in a gesture of surrender.

"I only said that Emma was engaged," he told her.

"Well then, come Darcy, Anne is waiting for you." Darcy started upon being addressed and looked over at Elizabeth. He was certainly not going to leave her side after he had finally discovered that her feelings coincided with his.

"I am sure that Anne will excuse me. I would much prefer to be here."

"She will certainly not excuse you! Say your congratulations if you must, but be quick about it." Darcy's eyes flashed. Elizabeth put a hand on his arm and told him quietly to leave.

"Miss Bennet," Lady Catherine said coldly, eyeing the hand on Darcy's arm, "you will refrain from touching my nephew in that intimate manner. He is your superior; you will show him the proper respect." Darcy's eyes narrowed as he truly glared at his aunt. Elizabeth was rendered utterly speechless by this example of low breeding.

"Lady Catherine," Darcy said exercising great effort to keep his voice even, "I will not stand for you insulting my fiancée." Lady Catherine looked from Darcy to Elizabeth and once more to Darcy, as if searching for any sign that it was not true. She found none. She said nothing more, but strode out of the house trying to retain what little dignity she was left with. The atmosphere of the room was much pleasanter once she was gone.

Colonel Fitzwilliam stood where he had the entire time, a small smirk growing on his face. He offered his congratulations to Emma and Knightley, as had been his original intention, and then moved to stand before Darcy. He said nothing but raised an eyebrow at his cousin. Darcy blushed almost unnoticeably.

"I suppose this would explain your behavior this morning." Darcy looked away from the teasing eyes of his cousin.

"I suppose," Darcy mumbled.

"His behavior?" Elizabeth asked amused.

"When I told him that Knightley was engaged he looked ready to commit murder, but when I went on to say that the engagement was to Emma he was tripping over himself to get out the door. At the time I could make nothing of it."

"That wasn't _exactly _how it happened." Darcy said.

"No," Fitzwilliam returned, "I left out the part where he tore the letter from my hands to make sure it was true." Darcy colored and was silent, not denying it.

"I think that is very sweet," Elizabeth said with a beaming smile. She stretched up to kiss him on his cheek making him smile triumphantly.

Fitzwilliam turned away from the couple who were completely lost in each other. He looked over at Knightley and Emma, but found that they too were locked in an intimate embrace. Smiling to himself, the Colonel backed out the door and out onto the drive. The sun warmed his back and made his smile grow even wider.

Today was a good day. A very good day.

* * *

**Not really happy with the ending, but I don't have time for anything else. Maybe I'll change it later. Just the epilogue left. I'm going to be without access to the internet for about two weeks so unless I can get it written today, there will be a wait on the epilogue.**

**Random Fact: I have absolutely no sense of direction. I've gotten lost (more than once) within a mile of the house I've lived in for the past 13 years.**


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